


What Makes You Beautiful

by katieeeeexx



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieeeeexx/pseuds/katieeeeexx
Summary: Inspired by this Bughead Fanfiction Wishlist prompt:Betty struggles with her physical size after years of dealing with her mom controlling her eating habits at home. Her lack of confidence in her body affects her intimate relationship with Jughead until one day he overhears Alice berating Betty and comparing her to Veronica in her presence. Veronica reassures her that’s she’s beautiful. This triggers Jughead to set out to prove how much he adores Betty’s body.





	1. Chapter 1

Betty blinks hard as she awakes abruptly to the blaring sun filtering through her blinds. She instantly reaches out for Jughead and disappointment floods her body as she remembers she’s moved back home. The trailer may have been small, but she felt like a princess in a castle while she stayed there. Jughead often snuck into her room— or rather FP’s room— once FP fell asleep and they would stay up for hours with each other. Waking up next to him and enjoying those moments in the soft morning light was her favorite thing.  
  
_“Betts! I’m freezing here! Can’t a man get some blankets?” Jughead playfully tugs at the comforter currently wrapped around his girlfriend._  
  
_Betty pouts as she pulls the blanket tighter around herself. “I’m comfy, Jug!” she whines as her eyes slowly flutter open, adjusting to the warm light of the morning._  
  
_Jughead tugs at the blankets harder this time. “C’mon, Betts, I’ll keep you warm,” he whispers as he scoots himself closer to her._  
  
_“I’m— I’m not dressed,” Betty replies quietly, unease building within her. Sure, she’s been naked with Jughead before, but the lights were always off or dim. Her mood visibly shifts._  
  
_Jughead lifts his head up to look directly into Betty’s eyes, concern etched onto his face. “Why the sudden need for modesty?”_  
  
_Betty glances around the room, avoiding his gaze. “Just forget it, okay,” she whispers as she fights back her sudden urge to cry. The past few days at the Jones’s house have been pure bliss, and she doesn’t want her stupid insecurity to ruin it. She sits up straighter and adds, “You’ll have to fight me for the covers.”_  
  
_A grin plays across Jughead’s face as he lunges toward his girlfriend. He grabs her waist through the blanket and starts his merciless torment of tickling._  
  
_Gasping for air in between her laughs, Betty grabs her pillow and hits Jughead on the side of his head. “Meanie!” she yells._  
  
_“Hey, now, you’re the one waging war over the covers! I’m merely trying to reclaim what’s mine,” Jughead says as he moves his attention back to yanking the comforter from Betty._  
  
_“Oh no you don’t!” Betty retorts as she matches his force, tugging the covers back over herself. She giggles and gets up, the blankets wrapped around her as she runs across the room. Jughead bolts after her in response._  
  
_The pair spend the rest of the morning playing tug of war with the blankets, laughing and joking, Betty’s earlier moment of insecurity forgotten._  
  
Shaking her head back into reality, Betty glances at her alarm clock. It’s nearly time to get ready. Veronica is due over in two hours so that Betty can help her plan her outfit for her date with Archie that evening. Reluctantly, she climbs out of bed and heads for the bathroom so that she can shower.  
  
***  
  
Betty is staring at her reflection in the mirror. It takes everything in her not to look away in disgust. She barely recognizes the person she sees looking back at her. Gone are her collarbones. Her jawline and cheekbones have disappeared, and the hint of abs she used to have has faded into the pile of fat sitting on her stomach. Betty looks away, afraid that if she stares any longer, she’ll throw up.  
  
Sitting on the toilet while the steam from her shower begins to fill the room, Betty rests her head in her hands. When did she get like this? Where did she go wrong? She’s lost all control and she doesn’t know how to steer herself back to the right direction. She’ll have to take drastic measures if she wants to regain control.  
  
With a new resolve, she gets up and steps into the shower. Yes, she’s going to do something about it, once and for all.  
  
***  
  
Betty looks up from her signed first edition of _Beloved_ when she hears the doorbell. That’ll be Veronica. She makes her way downstairs to find her mom greeting her best friend at the door.  
  
“Hey, V,” she quips as she approaches.  
  
Veronica smiles in return. She glances nervously at Mrs. Cooper before following Betty up to her room.  
  
“What was that all about with my mom?” Betty asks.  
  
“Oh, nothing, just Alice being Alice,” Veronica brushes it off, eager to change the subject. Betty doesn’t need to know what Mrs. Cooper was trying to talk to her about. “So, got any outfit ideas for me? Archie said casual. I don’t _do_ casual, B.”  
  
Betty rolls her eyes. Of course, Veronica I-won’t-be-seen-without-my-pearls Lodge wouldn’t know how to dress down for a date. The thought makes her smile. She strolls over to her closet and takes a quick inventory. Betty pulls out an oversized sweater and tosses it to Veronica. “Thoughts?”  
  
Veronica runs her fingers over the fabric of the sweater. “You would hand me a sweater,” she chuckles.  
  
Choosing to ignore her, Betty suggests Veronica try it on to see if she likes it.  
  
Just as Veronica pulls her shirt over her head, Alice walks into the room. She pauses for a moment as she looks from Veronica to Betty before asking, “What are you girls up to?”  
  
“Betty’s helping me pick an outfit for my date with Archie later,” Veronica answers.  
  
“Is she really? Huh,” Alice eyes her daughter with obvious disdain. “I’m not sure what she can lend you. I’d think her clothes would be too big for you, honey.”  
  
Betty flushes beet red and looks down at her hands as her fingers curl painfully into her palms. Not this again. Not now. It’s hard enough being friends with Veronica. Everything is effortless with her. She’s gorgeous and carefree— so unlike Betty.  
  
“I mean, Veronica, you’re gorgeous. Much too slim and petite for anything Betty would have in her closet.” Alice continues, turning her gaze to her daughter, “Betty, darling, you really should clean up your diet. Just look at Veronica! Don’t you want to look like that again? Honestly, Betty, you’ve really let yourself go.”  
  
Betty pushes her nails further into her palms as she remains silent. She can feel the blood trickling out of her now reopened scars.  
  
“Mrs. Cooper—“ Veronica starts.  
  
“No, Veronica, Betty needs to hear this,” Alice holds her hand up to stop Veronica from saying any more. “Betty, you know it’s true. You didn’t make the cheerleading squad last year because Cheryl didn’t think you looked the part. The only reason you made it this year was because Veronica— someone who does, in fact, look the part— refused to join without you. You used to be so thin! Opportunities will only grow more seldom the longer you let this continue.”  
  
Veronica gapes at Alice. “All due respect, Mrs. Cooper, but Betty is beautiful. Anyone who can’t see that needs their eyes checked.” She walks towards the bedroom door, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I was changing and would appreciate some privacy.”  
  
Alice gives Betty one more pointed glare before exiting the room.  
  
Betty, who seems to have lost her voice, hesitantly sits down on the bed, desperate to avoid Veronica’s concerned gaze.  
  
Veronica walks across the room and sits next to her friend. She gingerly uncurls Betty’s fingers. They’re bleeding. Veronica lets out a soft gasp at the sight. She thought Betty was doing better. “Hey,” she says as she finally catches Betty’s eyes, “don’t listen to her, B. You’re _stupid_ gorgeous.”  
  
Betty lets tears escape her eyes as she blinks. “No I’m not, V,” she replies weakly.  
  
“Elizabeth Cooper. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl I’ve met. You’d put every attendee of Vanity Fair’s Oscar Party to shame, and I would know. Cheryl is threatened because you totally have the power to rule Riverdale High, and your mom is just latching on to any negativity because she’s a controlling, manipulative bitch.” Veronica can feel her blood beginning to boil. “Betty, seriously. I will not let you go another minute thinking you’re anything other than a goddess.”  
  
Betty wipes the tears from her cheeks and looks at Veronica. “V, I’m not. I can’t stand the way I look. I’ve gained weight. My mom’s right. You have no idea how I used to look. I feel disgusting every time I look in the mirror. I don’t even know what Jughead sees in me.”  
  
Veronica stands in anger and looks down at Betty. “Stop that right now. Betty Cooper you are a flawless human being and I will not let you talk about yourself like that, understand?”  
  
Betty looks up at Veronica. She’s so adamant about this that there has to be a reason why. Maybe she’s not hideous. “Okay,” she acquiesces, though she lacks conviction.  
  
Veronica’s face softens as she sits once more beside Betty. “Promise me, B, that you’ll try to believe me?”  
  
“I promise,” Betty agrees, and she means it. She doesn’t know that she’ll be successful, but if Veronica is this insistent, she’ll try.  
  
***  
  
Jughead climbs the ladder he’s leaned up against Betty’s house, intending to surprise her with an impromptu visit. As he nears the open window, he can hear voices.  
  
Mrs. Cooper’s voice drifts down to where he stands on the ladder, and he can hear her say, “Betty, darling, you really should clean up your diet. Just look at Veronica! Don’t you want to look like that again? Honestly, Betty, you’ve really let yourself go.”  
  
His eyes widen in shock. _What the hell?_ He can’t believe what he’s hearing. Jughead cranes his neck to hear more.  
  
“Betty, you know it’s true. You didn’t make the cheerleading squad last year because Cheryl didn’t think you looked the part. The only reason you made it this year was because Veronica— someone who does, in fact, look the part— refused to join without you. You used to be so thin! Opportunities will only grow more seldom the longer you let this continue.”  
  
At Alice’s words, Jughead’s thoughts drift to the morning a few days ago when Betty was still staying with him. _Is that why she didn’t want to take the blankets off of her?_ Jughead is stunned. Betty is the most beautiful girl he’s ever met. Surely she must know that. He racks his brains for any conversation he can remember where Betty indicated otherwise.  
  
It hits him like a ton of bricks. Jughead can’t remember a single time where he told his girlfriend she was beautiful. _But that can’t be right, can it? I must’ve told her. I mean, she’s gorgeous._ Jughead frantically replays every conversation he can think of in his mind.  
  
Jolted back to the present tense by the slam of a door, he turns his attention back to the conversation unfolding inside Betty’s bedroom. It’s quieter, so he has to strain to hear anything.  
  
Finally, he catches the sound of Betty’s voice. “V, I’m not. I can’t stand the way I look. I’ve gained weight. My mom’s right. You have no idea how I used to look. I feel disgusting every time I look in the mirror. I don’t even know what Jughead sees in me.” She sounds so small— so hurt.  
  
Jughead nearly falls off his ladder. _She can’t be serious!_ He quietly takes a few steps higher on the ladder to hear what’s happening better.  
  
This time he can hear Veronica. “Stop that right now. Betty Cooper you are a flawless human being and I will not let you talk about yourself like that, understand?”  
  
_Thank God for Veronica Lodge._ Abandoning his plan to surprise Betty, Jughead climbs down off the ladder. He tries to process everything he just overheard and sort out his feelings. He feels a lot, but the overriding emotion is anger. Yes, definitely anger. _How dare Mrs. Cooper insinuate that Betty is anything other than stunning?_  
  
Feeling rage simmer up inside him, Jughead decides to go for a run— something he very rarely does.  
  
As his feet pound into the pavement, Jughead welcomes the pain that running provides. He channels his anger into the movement, focusing solely on dragging air into his lungs. As the muscles in his legs begin to burn with exertion, he speeds up. He needs something—anything— to keep him from barging into the Cooper house and smacking Alice across the face. Breaking into a sprint, he ensures he can only focus on getting from point A to point B and slamming his feet down, one after the other.  
  
Finally, Jughead stops and rests his hands on his knees, panting hard. He just cannot accept the fact that Betty doesn’t know what he sees in her.  
  
Standing up, he formulates a plan.  
  
***  
  
Betty lies in her bed staring at the ceiling, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. Veronica has left for her date with Archie and she is finally alone. Briefly, Betty considers calling Jughead. She wonders what she would say— if she wanted to say anything at all. Sometimes, she just wants to hear his voice.  
  
Betty considers whether or not calling Jughead is a good idea. He’s her safe space. What if he agrees with her mom? Betty can’t bear the thought. She’s opened up to Jughead more than she’s ever opened up to anyone. He accepted the scars on her hands, but what if this makes her too fucked up for him? What if it’s all too much? Betty won’t even admit the depth of her body image issues to herself, let alone someone she couldn’t stand to lose. How could she explain something she herself doesn’t even understand?  
  
On the other hand, Betty is feeling lost, alone, and defeated. Talking to Jughead would do wonders for her mood. It always does. Hearing the melodic croon of his voice caress her name is like a siren call. He uses his words to put her back together like nobody else ever has.  
  
On an impulse, she picks up her phone and hits Jughead’s number in her speed dial.  
  
“Hey, Betts,” he answers, his voice softer than usual.  
  
Betty sniffles, “Hey Juggie.”  
  
“What’s up? Having a fun Saturday?” Jughead probes, hoping her day has turned around since the conversation he overheard. Betty deserves the world, not a mother who criticizes everything about her.  
  
Betty can no longer suppress her sobs and decides this was definitely a bad idea. Her tears begin to flow more freely and her breathing becomes shallow. As her throat starts to constrict, she gasps for air.  
  
“Woah, hey, Betty, it’s me. Talk to me, babe. What’s going on?” Of course, Jughead has an idea, but he only heard snippets of something he guesses is a much bigger issue.  
  
Betty manages to choke out, “I just need you,” between her sobs.  
  
Adrenaline mixes with panic as it courses through Jughead’s body. The sound of his girlfriend like this is enough to throw him into cardiac arrest. There is no way in hell he is letting her be by herself while she’s like this. “Betty, baby, shh, it’s okay. Try to calm down. I’m coming over. I’ll be right there,” he murmurs, both hands now grasping the phone.  
  
Betty swallows her tears long enough to mutter a response before she hangs up. That did not go the way she wanted at _all,_ and now she’s a blubbering mess. She has to pull herself together before Jughead arrives. He can’t see her like this. She won’t let him.  
  
She pulls her knees to her chest and tries to steady herself. Betty hasn’t succumbed to tears like this in years. She’d made an art out of being the perfect girl next door, and bursting into hysterics is definitely not a part of that image. She curls her fingers inward once more, allowing the pain to distract her enough to silence her sobs.  
  
***  
  
Jughead taps on Betty’s window, anxious for her to let him in. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve used the front door, but considering he still wants to slap Betty’s mother, he figured the window was a safer option.  
  
When Betty opens the window and lets him in, Jughead doesn’t waste any time embracing her in an all-enveloping hug. He can smell the vanilla and honey from her shampoo still lingering from her morning shower, and it smells like home. She feels so fragile in his arms that he never wants to let go.  
  
Betty melts into Jughead’s embrace, her sobs forcing their way back to the surface. Feeling his strong arms around her is enough to break even the strongest of poker faces. Everything that she had been holding in all day just comes tumbling out, and all Betty wants to do is stay in Jughead’s arms forever and forget the rest of the world. Jughead is home; he is her safe place.  
  
Gently ushering her to the bed, Jughead sits with Betty, never breaking contact. He searches her eyes for an inkling of what’s running through her mind, but he only finds sorrow. His heart breaks. Jughead clasps his girlfriend’s face in his hands and wipes her tears with his thumbs before saying, “Betts, I’ve never seen you like this. What can I do?” His last words are a plea. He so desperately wants to erase her pain. Kiss every inch of her beautiful, porcelain skin until it all just fades away.  
  
“Can you just hold me, Jug? I just want to be here with you,” Betty whispers. She doesn’t have the strength to explain anything to him. Just being here— now— with Jughead is enough.  
  
Jughead strokes Betty’s hair and murmurs, “Shh, baby. I’m here. I’m here.” As long as she needs it, he will hold her in his arms. Nothing is more important to him in this world than Betty Cooper. If she needs him to hold him until his arms fall off, he’ll do it.  
  
Betty doesn’t know how long she sits nuzzled into Jughead’s chest. Minutes? Hours? All she knows is when she’s with Jughead, nothing else matters. Her mind is quiet for the first time all day, and she slowly regains her ability to breathe evenly.  
  
She looks up at Jughead through the last of her tears and smiles a genuine smile. “Thank you,” she breathes.  
  
Jughead bends down and kisses the top of Betty’s head. “Of course, Betts,” he replies, “Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
Taking a deep breath, Betty sits up a little straighter so that she’s face to face with her boyfriend. “I don’t know if I can, Jug,” Betty looks down nervously, “I don’t really understand what’s happening to me.”  
  
“Betty, I—“ Jughead swallows, “— I heard what happened earlier with your mom and Veronica. I was outside about to surprise you.” He had been contemplating whether or not to tell Betty what he heard all day, but seeing her so hurt and conflicted made it impossible to keep it from her.  
  
Betty slumps back down into Jughead’s arms. “You did?” she asks.  
  
Jughead nods in response.  
  
“Jug, everything my mom said..” Betty trails off, unable to articulate how she’s feeling.  
  
Jughead tilts Betty’s chin up so that he can look straight into her beautiful green eyes. “Betty Cooper, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I’m sorry I don’t tell you more.”  
  
Tears spring back into Betty’s eyes when she hears Jughead utter those words. That’s not true. It can’t be. She shakes her head slightly. “But I’m not, Jug,” she cries. “I’m not.”  
  
“Oh, but Betty, you are. Why can’t you see how gorgeous you are?” Jughead is distraught at the sight of his girlfriend in such pain. It suddenly becomes his life’s mission to show her just how breathtaking she is.  
  
Betty looks up at him and she can see tears stuck to her lashes. What she did to deserve Jughead Jones, she’ll never know. “You think I’m gorgeous?”  
  
Jughead doesn’t even need to think before her responds, “Gorgeous, stunning, breathtaking, beautiful, you name it,” without hesitation.  
  
“Why?” Betty asks, and Jughead’s entire world shifts. _Why?_ There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe what makes his girl beautiful.  
  
Resolving to continue this conversation when Betty is more stable, Jughead stops resisting the urge to kiss her he’s been feeling since he laid eyes on her. His lips melt into hers as he tries to say everything he wants to say with his kiss. He pours every ounce of his feelings he can muster into her as their lips fuse together.  
  
For the first time in his life, Jughead Jones has no words.


	2. Chapter 2

Jughead is lying in Betty’s bed, his girlfriend draped around him while she drifts off into sleep. He could tell how exhausting the events of the day had been on her, so he didn’t push her to talk any more that night. For now, he is perfectly content watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. Asleep, Betty looks so peaceful— like the entire day hadn’t even happened. The idea pulls at Jughead’s heartstrings; he wishes it were true.  
  
Very gently, so as not to wake her, Jughead tucks a loose strand of hair out of Betty’s face. Her skin is smooth and warm under his touch. It’s so perfectly soft. _Everything_ about her is perfect. The fact that she thinks anything to the contrary strikes debilitating pain throughout his whole body. Jughead aches to fix everything for her. He wants to make everything right for Betty. It’s what she deserves.  
  
Briefly, Jughead wonders if his need to fix everything for Betty stems from his inability to enact change in his family as he watched it splinter around him while he was younger. It’s an unwelcome thought, certainly one that should be filed away to be examined at a later date.  
  
Right here, right now, his only concern is Betty. As far as Jughead is concerned, his life begins and ends with Betty Cooper. Everything else is simply white noise.  
  
Betty stirs and whimpers incoherently in her sleep, and Jughead freezes. _Is she okay?_ Sudden panic sweeps through him, but the moment ended as quickly as it began. He lets out a sigh of relief, grateful that Betty can sleep peacefully in his arms where she belongs. He tightens his hold on her just a fraction, but enough to reassure him that she’s here. She’s his.  
  
***  
  
Betty can feel the weight of Jughead’s arms around her, and she can’t help the small smile that plays across her face. Not wanting to face realities, she keeps her eyes shut and focuses on the feel of her boyfriend’s body intertwined with her own. She can smell his body wash— something she’s certain contributes to Jughead’s signature scent of peppermint and cinnamon— and she can feel his breath on her skin.  
  
Drawing slow circles up and down Jughead’s forearms, Betty lays in silent appreciation of her boyfriend. Without him, she shudders to think where her darkness would take her. Jughead is her guiding light; he’s never too far away when the ominous feeling threatens to overtake her. Before Jug, the only thing that could even attempt to tame her darkness was ripping the fragile flesh of her palms with her fingernails. When Jughead is around, though, she doesn’t feel the need to scar her hands. He calms her.  
  
She allows herself to open her eyes to check the time. The clock on her bedside table reads 3:19 am. She must have fallen asleep with Jug as he was pressing soft kisses on her forehead and whispering every so often about how beautiful he thinks she is. The memory brings a smile to her face once more. Hearing the words coming from Jughead makes Betty feel like they could _almost_ be true. Almost.  
  
She lets her thoughts drift as she replays her boyfriend’s soft musings in her mind and falls back to sleep.  
  
***  
  
**Hey, B, milkshakes at Pop’s in 15?**  
  
Betty’s phone lights up with a text from her best friend. Having just showered and kissed Jughead goodbye as he snuck back out her window, she welcomes the idea of a good milkshake and girl talk with Veronica. It’s just after lunch time on a Sunday, so Pop’s should be pretty empty. Betty types her response as she makes her way back into her bedroom to get dressed and grab her wallet.  
  
She’s pulling a sweater on when the realization strikes her: _milkshakes._ Before yesterday, she hadn’t really thought about her and her friends’ favorite treat, but now she’s not so sure. She just promised herself she was going to take control again. Wouldn’t getting milkshakes be counterproductive? Betty supposes it’s too late to back out now, so she resigns to figure it out at Pop’s.  
  
Ten minutes later, Veronica is sliding into the booth across from Betty. She is all smiles, as usual, and Betty notes that her pearls are back. Casual must’ve been a one time thing.  
  
“Hey, B!” Veronica shrieks as if she didn’t just see her best friend less than twenty-four hours ago.  
  
The thought of their last encounter sends an involuntary shudder down Betty’s spine. She doesn’t resent Veronica for it. It’s hard not to notice how insanely and effortlessly gorgeous she is, but she did wish her mom had skipped over that fact. Betty doesn’t want her mom’s vendetta against her to interfere with the one good female friendship Betty’s ever had.  
  
“Hey, V. I see the pearls are back,” Betty gestures vaguely at the strand hanging from Veronica’s neck.  
  
Veronica chuckles, “Yeah, casual isn’t my thing.” She reaches up and twists the pearls unconsciously through her fingers. They were a gift from her father, and as much as she wishes he would become a more honest man, Veronica loves him. Wearing them makes her feel closer to him when everything around him feels so secretive.  
  
Pop comes by to take their orders. Without thinking, Betty orders her regular milkshake. When Pop walks away, she pales. _What did I just do?_  
  
Veronica eyes her friend with a raised eyebrow. “Betty, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Something is definitely off with Betty, and she wonders if it has anything to do with what happened yesterday. Seeing Betty so broken and vulnerable hurt Veronica more than she could ever express. Betty is always so strong and sure of herself— nothing like her. Veronica is unsure of everything, especially now that she’s trying to steer her father’s business down the right path. She’s always questioning whether or not she’s doing the right thing. So many people have gotten hurt because of her dad and she just wants to put an end to it. But Betty? Betty always does the right thing. She’s so headstrong and smart; seeing her ripped apart by her mom yesterday was heartbreaking to watch.  
  
“Yeah, V, I’m fine,” Betty responds rather weakly.  
  
Veronica cocks her head to one side and gives her best friend a pointed look. “Are you sure, Betty? I don’t know, you just don’t seem like yourself. Is it because of yesterday?” Betty’s eyes widen by a fraction, but it’s just enough for Veronica to notice. She reaches out and places her hand on Betty’s, “B, you know she was out of line, don’t you?”  
  
Betty looks down at their hands. She just doesn’t understand why everyone thinks so much of her. “Maybe, but it’s not like she wasn’t telling the truth,” she answers quietly.  
  
Veronica tightens her grip on Betty’s hand. “Betty. I told you yesterday and I’ll tell you again. I’ll keep telling you as long as you need to hear it. You’re so gorgeous it’s insane.” Veronica looks down and lets out a small laugh when she adds, “Should be illegal, actually.”  
  
Betty doesn’t want to get into this right now. She just wants to have a good time with her best friend and hear about her date with Archie. “Thanks, B,” she acquiesces before adding, “So how’d your date go? What was this big, casual thing that Archie had planned for you?”  
  
And they’re off. Veronica gushes over Archie before turning the conversation to Betty and Jughead, and they’re laughing and gossiping like normal. _Normal._ This is what Betty wants. This is what she needs. She just wants to hang out with her friend and forget about her mother.  
  
Absentmindedly, Betty takes a sip of her milkshake when it arrives. Then another. And another. While her and Veronica turn their attention to gossiping about Cheryl and the Vixens, she reverts to autopilot and sips away without even thinking about it.  
  
After about an hour of chatter, Betty looks down to find her glass empty. _Oh, no. I drank it. I drank the whole thing._ Panic rises inside her. She wasn’t supposed to actually drink the whole milkshake. Disgust in what she’s done slams into her as if she’d been hit by a bus.  
  
Eager to avoid the conversation taking another deep turn, Betty excuses herself to go to the bathroom. She can sort out her emotions there and figure out her next move. _One milkshake will not make you fat. One milkshake will not make you fat._ She tries to repeat the mantra over and over on the trip to the bathroom, willing herself to believe it.  
  
By the time she reaches her destination, however, Betty’s breathing has become erratic and she can feel her chest tightening around her. She feels like the entire room is spinning around her and she can’t hold her ground. Her head begins to throb. She immediately rushes to the sink and grabs on for support.  
  
She’s spiraling and Betty can feel her heart hammering in her chest and in her throat, the noise of its beating growing steadily louder in her ears. This is so _not_ in control. Why did she do it? She could’ve taken small sips, pretended to drink it, anything! Betty is frantic as she grips the sides of the sink harder in the single bathroom at Pop’s. This is not how she thought girl talk with Veronica would go.  
  
Betty lets out a deep, shaky breath before looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes are red and splotchy with unshed tears and she can feel every sip of the milkshake she just drank sloshing around in her stomach. Betty feels manic and disgusting as she contemplates what to do.  
  
The thought springs so suddenly into her mind, she’s not sure where it came from. _You could get rid of it. Just make the mistake disappear._ Betty can feel the darkness threatening to take over. Surely, throwing up the milkshake will only make the problem worse. Betty glances quickly to the locked door of the bathroom. _I am alone. I could just do it._  
  
Before she knows what’s happening, Betty is retching into the toilet. The physical release mirrors her emotional one and it’s almost cathartic. She heaves as she fights to get every last drop of that damned milkshake out of her system. _Good riddance._  
  
Leaning her head against the wall and still sitting next to the toilet, Betty lets more silent tears slide down her cheeks while her breathing returns to normal. She did it. It’s done. That wasn’t so bad, was it? An uninvited image of Veronica standing up for her yesterday pops into her subconscious. Veronica’s words from earlier follow into her ears, _“You’re so gorgeous, it’s insane.”_  
  
Something new grips Betty. Guilt. Her best friend in the entire world is sitting just outside the door waiting for her. She was so adamant about making Betty feel beautiful. What would she say now? _I let her down._ Veronica stood up for her when she couldn’t even look her mom in the eye. She stands up for her all the time— against her mom, against Cheryl, the list goes on. How could Betty disappoint her like this?  
  
Betty’s thoughts turn to Jughead. What would he think? _Oh, God. Jughead! He’d lose it if he knew._ Tears well up once more in Betty’s eyes. She has a best friend who thinks the world of her and a boyfriend who, by his own admission, thinks she’s perfect. Meanwhile, here she is, sitting on the bathroom floor, her sweater spattered with self-induced vomit. This is far from perfect.  
  
The enormity of what she’s just done crashes down on Betty all at once. She feels the familiar tightening in her chest as her tears turn to sobs. She can’t steady herself. She’s let them down. It’s all she can think about. The thoughts consume her. Suddenly, she can’t sit still. She paces around the bathroom, clenching and unclenching her fists. She thinks she can feel blood on her palms, but she doesn’t care. _I’ve let them down. I can’t believe I’ve let them down!_  
  
Betty can’t calm herself. She’s inconsolable. She furiously pulls on the toilet paper to wipe her eyes and it flies everywhere. “Fuck, no!” she cries. She drops to the floor to try and pick it up. How could she let this happen? How could she fail her friends like this? Her grasp on the toilet paper loosens as she cries harder than she thought she could. She slams her hands down on the floor, the blow only slightly soften by the toilet paper piled up around her. Where did she go wrong? How did she get like this?  
  
Betty’s whole body shakes as she tries to stand up. Her vision blurs. _No. What did I do?_ She can’t control herself. The darkness looms around her like an old friend. Betty tries desperately to fight it, but its grip only tightens. Pain sears through her palms as she uses all the strength she can muster to curl her fingers tighter inwards. _Stop it, Betty._ _Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake!_  
  
There’s a knock on the door. “Betty? You okay?” It’s Veronica. _Shit! How long have I been in here?_ In a feeble attempt to hide her guilt, Betty wipes her eyes. Slowly, she unlocks the door to let Veronica inside.  
  
As soon as the door opens, Veronica gasps at the sight of her friend. “Betty! What the hell? What happened?” she can’t hide the panic rising in her voice. Veronica scans the room. There’s toilet paper everywhere. _Is that blood?_ After she’s taken in her surroundings, she returns her attention to Betty.  
  
Betty’s a mess. Her ponytail is askew and it looks like she’s pulled several strands of hair out of it. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy. Although she’s clearly tried to wipe them, her cheeks are streaked with trails of tears. Betty’s lips are wet and swollen. _Is that puke on her shirt?_ Her hands are bleeding.  
  
Betty follows Veronica’s gaze. There’s no escaping this. “I— I let you down,” her voice cracks, “I’m so _sorry,_ V.”  
  
Veronica is alarmed by the sound of Betty’s voice. She takes a step forward and puts her hands on Betty’s shoulders. “Betty, what are you sorry for?” She searches her friends eyes for a hint of what transpired while she was gone. All Veronica sees is pain. “Shh, hey, Betty. It’s okay. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? We can start from there. It’s okay, B.”  
  
Betty’s lip trembles. How can Veronica say that? Everything is far from okay. “I can’t, V. I’m so ashamed, I—” Betty can’t continue. She looks down at her hands and tries desperately not to clench her fists. It’s only then that she notices all the blood.  
  
Veronica doesn’t know what to do. She’s never seen Betty like this. All she can do is repeat, “It’s okay,” before gently rubbing Betty’s back as she starts to cry again. She pulls her into a hug because it’s all she can think to do.  
  
Betty leans into her best friend. Veronica never ceases to amaze her. She’s always there for her. _Always._ How could she have done this to her? She lets out a hiccup as her sobs turn into hysterics. Betty buries her head into Veronica’s shoulder to try and mask the sound.  
  
Veronica pulls Betty in tighter. She’s terrified, and it’s not a feeling she does well with. “Hey, Betts, why don’t we go back to my place? My parents are at some event and we can clean you up, okay?”  
  
Betty looks up at Veronica and nods silently. She just wants to disappear into the floor. Disappear forever. Escape the weight of everything she’s done.  
  
***  
  
“Jughead? It’s Veronica.” Jughead is shocked to be answering a phone call from Betty’s best friend. Sure, they got along okay for Betty’s sake, but it’s not like they were about to braid each other’s hair anytime soon. Before he could answer, Veronica adds, “I’m sorry to bug you, but it’s Betty.”  
  
Jughead’s whole body tenses. “What? What is it? Is she okay?”  
  
Veronica pauses before answering, “I don’t know.”  
  
Every scenario imaginable plays through Jughead’s mind. Why wouldn’t she be okay? He was just with Betty. “Where are you?” is all he can muster in response.  
  
“The Pembrooke. Can you come over?” Veronica pleads.  
  
“I’m on my way,” Jughead replies before hanging up.  
  
As Veronica sets her phone down, she can hear the water from the shower start. _Okay. At least she’s cleaning herself up. That’s a start._ She plops down onto her bed and tries to piece together what she knows so far about what happened at Pop’s.  
  
They were talking and joking about Cheryl when Betty said she had to pee. Nothing weird there. She was gone for at least a half hour, which is definitely strange. Then, when Veronica went to check on her, Betty was distraught.  
  
Veronica shoots up as she remembers. _There was vomit on her sweater._ The realization sweeps through her. Did she drink her milkshake? Veronica can’t remember. _What the fuck? I must be wrong. Or— is this because of her mom?_  
  
Veronica shakes her head. She refuses to believe that Alice Cooper has fucked up her daughter enough to push her to such extremes. No, she must’ve just gotten sick. It’s not like anyone enjoys getting sick. _Yeah, that’s it. She’s just sick._ Although as she thinks it, Veronica has difficulty believing that’s what happened.  
  
***  
  
When Jughead arrives at the Pembrooke, Betty is wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire. Veronica is sitting next to her. It looks like they’re drinking tea. As he gets closer, he can tell Betty is distracted. Her eyes are glossy with tears waiting to fall out and she’s absentmindedly circling her finger around the rim of her mug. Jughead looks at Veronica who gives him a desperate look.  
  
Veronica has been trying to comfort Betty for an hour, but she’s just been quiet and withdrawn. It’s scaring her. She still doesn’t know exactly what happened in the bathroom, and they’ve been sitting by the fire for what feels like forever in silence. For the first time ever, Veronica doesn’t know what to do. Seeing Jughead is a relief. Maybe he can help.  
  
Jughead walks up to the pair and sits down, Betty between him and Veronica. He gently takes the mug out of Betty’s hands and says, “Hi.”  
  
Startled out of her trance, Betty blinks at Jughead. _When did he get here?_ “Hi,” she responds.  
  
Now that he’s closer, Jughead can get a better look at his girlfriend. Her hair is damp, so she’s clearly showered, which is good. He looks into her eyes and he can tell she’s been crying. They’re red and puffy. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. If they were under any other circumstances, the sight of her lips would make Jughead want to jump Betty’s bones, but not right now. Not when she’s so clearly hurt.  
  
Veronica gets up and says, “Jughead, I’ll make you some coffee.” She thinks it’s best to give Betty some time alone with Jughead. Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable talking to him. She smiles at Jughead and Betty before exiting to the kitchen.  
  
“Babe, are you okay? You look so, so…” Jughead trails off. That’s twice in twenty-four hours this girl’s left him speechless. What is she doing to him?  
  
Betty’s lip trembles as a single tear escapes down her cheek. “No,” she breathes before burying her head into Jughead’s chest.  
  
Jughead instinctively wraps his arms around Betty. Hesitantly, Jughead asks, “Is this about yesterday?”  
  
Betty chokes back her tears. How? How does Jughead always know what’s going on in her mind? She looks up and nods.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jughead probes gently.  
  
Truthfully, Betty wants more than anything to let everything she’s been bottling up out, but she’s just not sure if she has the strength. And to Jughead? She couldn’t bear it if he decided it was too much for him and left.  
  
Pushing her thoughts aside, she nods. “Yesterday was my breaking point, Jug,” Betty lowers her voice, afraid that saying any of this out loud will make it too real. “I can’t do it anymore. Any of it. My mom,” she pauses, “my body.”  
  
Her words hang in the air like a ticking time bomb. Jughead stays silent, willing Betty to continue.  
  
Finally, Betty caves. “I hate myself, Jug. I’m supposed to be this perfect girl next door. The perfect daughter. The perfect student. But when I look in the mirror, I hate what I see. I just want to rip all the fat off of my body.” It’s like the floodgates have opened, and Betty can’t stop, “And this darkness that I have, I can’t stop it. It’s making me do crazy things, Jug. Everything about my life feels so chaotic. I’m out of control. I just want to feel like I have control.” Betty’s words turn into tears and she looks down, unable to look at her boyfriend for fear of his reaction.  
  
Jughead is pretty sure he can feel his entire heart ripping into pieces at Betty’s words. How could he not have known? “Betty Cooper,” he tilts her chin up with his finger before he continues, “I love you. Thank you for telling me that.” He plants a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. “You are so beautiful. It hurts me that you don’t see that,” He takes Betty’s hands, “and Betty, you don’t have to be all those things you think people expect of you. You’re amazing just as you are.”  
  
“I feel like I let you down. Today, at Pop’s, Veronica and I had milkshakes and I just felt so _disgusted_ with myself that I—” Betty couldn’t bring herself to say it.  
  
Adrenaline starts pumping through Jughead’s veins. “That you what, Betty?” he asks, although he’s not sure he wants to hear the answer.  
  
Betty shrinks away from Jughead. She can’t look at him. She can’t accept all of the love he’s giving her when, “I threw it up, Jug.”  
  
Jughead stares at Betty, dumfounded, trying to process what she’s just told him. He feels like his entire world has just been turned upside down. Collecting his thoughts, he walks over to Betty and squeezes her hands. “First of all, Betts, you could _never_ let me down. I want you to know that, okay?” He searches her eyes before he continues, “Second, I want you to know how proud I am of you for telling me. You don’t have to go through this alone, baby. I want to help. I don’t know how, but I want to do whatever I can for you.” Jughead thinks momentarily of the plan he came up with yesterday. It seems more important now more than ever.  
  
Betty’s heart breaks. How can he be so compassionate? “Jug,” Betty whispers, “I’m not this beautiful girl you paint me to be. With everything going on, with all this shit in my head, I just want to be that girl you think I am.”  
  
Jughead steps back so that Betty is at arm’s length. It is imperative that he get his point across to her. “But you _are,_ Betty. Exactly as you are. Right now. I’m not painting you a picture. When I look at you I see an extraordinarily captivating, smart, funny, _beautiful_ girl standing in front of me. Even at this very moment. You’re beautiful even now, Betty Cooper.”  
  
Betty melts at Jughead’s words. “How did I get so lucky with you, Jug?” She stares at him in disbelief before adding, “You really think that?”  
  
“Betty of course I do!” Jughead is exasperated, “I love you. All of you. I love the little smirk you get when you’re right about something we investigate. I love those little strands of hair that fall out of your ponytail. I love your laugh and, while I don’t love it when you cry, I love the way your bottom lip shakes when you do. I love the way my name sounds when you say it. Betty, the list is endless.”  
  
Betty can’t hold in her emotions any longer. “Oh, Jug!” she cries as she wraps her arms around him and cries into his chest. She lets everything out through her sobs— her disgust, her confusion, her shame, her love for Jughead, everything. She still can’t believe that Jughead thinks those things, but Betty doesn’t care. Just hearing him say them is enough to momentarily silence the darkness.  
  
The pair turn when they hear someone clear their throat behind them. “Uhm, Jughead your coffee is ready,” Veronica announces as she reenters the room. She looks at Betty and asks, “Feeling better, B?”  
  
Betty sniffles and says, “A little. Thank you for calling Jughead.”  
  
Veronica hands Jughead his coffee as they all sit in front of the fire. “So, B, are you going to tell me what happened in the bathroom, now?” Veronica figures it’s now or never.  
  
Betty glances nervously at Jughead who says, “Go ahead, Betts. Veronica will understand.” She did tell Jughead and he didn’t run for the hills. Maybe Betty could confide in her best friend, too. After all, she was in the room when her mom said all those things. She takes a deep breath, and begins her story.  
  
“After drinking the milkshake at Pop’s, I just felt so disgusted with myself, V. All I could think about was how frantic and out of control I felt. I already thought I was repulsive, and then hearing my mom say all those things— comparing me to you. It was too much. It broke me. I had to get rid of it. I could feel it in my stomach and the longer it sat there the more manic I felt. I didn’t feel like I had a choice, so I threw it up.” Betty’s last words are weak, barely above a whisper. She takes a deep breath to steady herself, “And then all I could think about was how you stood up for me— how you always stand up for me— and how supportive Jughead was later that day. I felt like I let you down. I couldn’t stand the thought. I felt so ashamed and lost and I spiraled. I’m _so_ sorry, V.”  
  
Veronica stares at Betty in disbelief as she lets her words sink in. She so badly wanted to be wrong about what she thought happened, but there Betty was confirming her worst fears. Veronica blinks furiously to stop the tears forming in her eyes from falling. How could she not see how much pain her best friend was in? It was her letting Betty down, not the other way around. “Betty,” she chokes, “You didn’t let me down. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I know how hard it is to stop those thoughts from forming. You did what you felt like you had to. I just wish I could’ve made you feel like you didn’t.”  
  
Betty lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. Once again, Veronica proves Betty doesn’t deserve her. “It’s okay, Ronnie. Nobody had any idea until yesterday, and even then I made a pretty big effort not to show how upset I’d been feeling. Letting people in is pretty new to me. You _were_ there for me.” Betty never wants Veronica to feel otherwise.  
  
Veronica grabs Betty’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Promise you’ll talk to me when you’re feeling that way? I want to help you, Betts. I could’ve helped you through it. You don’t have to deal with this on your own.”  
  
Betty nods before turning her attention to the fire in front of her. Exhaustion sweeps through her body. It’s been a long day. She keeps her hold on Veronica’s hand as she lets her head fall onto Jughead’s shoulder. These are her people. If she has them by her side, maybe, just maybe, she can conquer her demons. For the first time in a while, Betty is hopeful.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s midnight. Jughead lays on the pull out couch in his trailer and stares at the ceiling. Everything from the past few days keeps playing out in his mind on a continuous loop. As always, his thoughts circle around Betty.

While he hopes he got through to her even a little bit, Jughead has a suspicion that Betty is still more wounded than she’s letting on. So much has happened with her this weekend, he wonders how long her issues have been bubbling under the surface. He could kick himself he’s so upset that he didn’t catch on sooner.

All of the signs were there. Betty was nervous about showing off her body with lights on. They always hung out at the trailer instead of Betty’s house. She threw herself into any mystery or crime that happened in Riverdale. She didn’t hesitate when Jughead asked her to run alongside him for student body president. Hell, Betty was even getting more involved with the Serpents. Was it to distract herself from everything? She wasn’t keen on going out to eat for their dates, either. Jughead didn’t question this because he couldn’t afford to take her out, anyway. Still, he should’ve known something was up.

Accepting the fact that he probably wasn’t going to sleep any time soon, Jughead reluctantly gets up and pulls a hoodie on. He grabs his helmet and heads outside to his motorcycle. Maybe a ride will help him clear his head.

Jughead drives for hours and aimlessly circles the city, images of Betty chasing closely behind. When he reaches the now abandoned Southside High, he comes to a stop. He throws his helmet atop his motorcycle and sits down on the steps leading up to the chained entrance.

Raking his fingers through his hair, Jughead lets out a frustrated sigh. He wants more than anything for Betty to see what he sees in her. A wave of anger hits him as he thinks about everything she’s said about herself recently. _I hate myself. - I just want to rip all the fat off my body. - I’m not beautiful. - I just want to be that girl you think I am._ Betty’s words ring in his ears over and over again.

Jughead is full-on angry, now. Angry at Mrs. Cooper, angry at anyone who’s ever made Betty doubt herself, but most of all he’s angry at himself. He should’ve known. He should’ve been there. Betty _needed_ him and he didn’t even know. Jughead stands up and starts pacing, unable to sit still any longer. He runs his hands through his hair once more before he clenches his fists to try and channel his anger. He’s becoming irate. He _never_ wants Betty to feel like she’s anything less than amazing.

Jughead almost jogs over to the entrance of the school and slams his fists into the wall. Pain shoots through his knuckles, but he doesn’t care. He punches the wall again and again until all he can focus on is the pain. Once he’s thoroughly out of breath, he assess the damage. His knuckles are bleeding and he’s certain they’ll bruise come morning. _That’ll take some explaining._

He wipes his knuckles on his sweatshirt before sitting himself back on the steps. How could he have let this happen? His heart aches for his girlfriend. The pain in his hands is nothing compared to the pain he saw in her eyes.

 _It’s unacceptable. I have to do something. Make her see what I see._ Jughead stands and walks back to his motorcycle. Gripping the handles is a challenge with his knuckles still throbbing and bleeding, but he has to get back to the trailer and sleep. He has to be on his A-game for Betty. He’s going to give her everything she deserves, once and for all.

 

***

 

“Oh my, God, Jug! Your hands!” Betty exclaims when he comes to pick her up for school. “What the fuck happened?”

Jughead knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to explain why both of his hands were now wrapped in blood-soaked bandages. “Don’t worry, Betts, I’m fine,” he shrugs.

Betty gapes at him and gives him a pointed look. “That doesn’t _look_ fine, Juggie. It looks like someone ran your hands over with a train!” Jughead snorts at the idea and Betty gives him a look. “I’m serious, Jug. What happened?”

He shrugs, “I got mad. The wall was there. You do the math.” Jughead really didn’t want to give Betty another reason to to be worried or upset. He knew that if he told her the whole story, it would only upset her more.

“Jug, I saw you less than twelve hours ago. I’m gonna need a little more than that. We’ve barely had time to sleep since we left Pembrooke, and you’re making it a priority to take your fists to a wall?” Betty is having none of this nonsense today. Honestly, Jughead should just walk around in bubble wrap, the way that boy finds trouble.

“I was angry at myself, okay? Can we just drop it, please, Betts?” Jughead pleads. He’s really not in the mood to go into it and he just wants Betty to have a fun, carefree day.

Betty gently grasps Jughead’s neck, searching for answers in his eyes. “Okay,” she agrees. She doesn’t want to fight with Jughead. She wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“I love you, Betts,” Jughead says before leaning in to kiss his girlfriend. In the middle of everything going on, he craves her touch, her taste. He wants to feel her against him as if it were confirmation that she’s still here. She’s okay. He cups her cheek and deepens the kiss. She tastes like peppermint and Betty— his favorite combination.

Betty leans into Jughead’s hand as she matches his intensity. She’s missed this. She’s missed him. She lets her hands roam to his biceps and she can feel his muscles working underneath her touch. She wants nothing more than to disappear into this moment forever.

Just as Jughead’s hands find their way underneath the hem of Betty’s shirt, Alice clears her throat. “You two better get going. I’d _hate_ for you to miss first period,” she snarks. She glares at Jughead and walks away.

Betty looks up at Jughead and laughs, and she really laughs. For the first time in days, Betty is genuinely happy. This is what she should be worrying about— getting caught making out with her boyfriend. She feels so _normal._

Jughead gives her a little half smile and flushes red. He didn’t realize how much he had been pining for Betty this weekend. He takes her hand and leads her to the door. “Shall we?” he asks while he motions for her to go through first. At least he can pretend to be a gentleman.

 

***

 

It’s almost lunch time and Betty’s stomach growls louder with each passing minute. She skipped breakfast, and she has no plans of indulging in lunch, either. She won’t give herself any more reasons to make herself sick. Not today.

Betty finds it hard to focus on class, so she looks out the window. There’s nothing particularly breathtaking about the scenery around Riverdale High, but she loves the way the leaves twirl up into the air when the wind hits them. It’s a silent beauty that she finds so serene and calming. The sun is reflecting off of the pavement and it makes it look as if the leaves are glowing— floating off into a dream land.

The bell rings and Betty jumps. How long was she zoned out? She quickly gathers her things and makes her way to her usual lunch table. She’s greeted by Veronica and Archie. Just as she sits down, Jughead joins them.

“Spoiler alert: Cheryl is on a tirade today. Good luck at practice, ladies,” Jughead quips sarcastically. “She’s basically destroying everything in her path. It’s fascinating to watch.”

Veronica laughs and replies, “Someone probably mistook her lipstick color for Cherry Red, when it’s _really_ Bombshell Red. The audacity!” she mocks disgust. The four of them burst into a fit of giggles, and everything feels right.

“So, Arch, how did Veronica do with casual date night?” Betty teases.

Archie smiles, “Well she’s never been very good at dressing down, so we opted for our birthday suits,” he winks and Veronica shrieks as she playfully slaps him on the shoulder.

“Archie!” she screams, but she’s not mad. Veronica loves how playful her boyfriend is. He’s the breath of fresh air her life desperately needs.

As the group gabs on about the happenings of Riverdale High, Betty withdraws. Her stomach aches with hunger, but she ignores it. That means there's nothing but fat for her body to burn. She looks down at her untouched lunch as the chatter of her friends buzzes around her.

Jughead notices Betty go quiet, so he gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. He knows she hasn’t eaten her lunch, but he doesn’t want to push her. He’ll just have to show her how wonderful she is later. _Maybe I’ll force feed her cherries._ Jughead smirks at his wayward thoughts. That’s one way to create an appetite.

 

***

 

Betty and Jughead walk hand in hand as they make their way home. Walking home with Jughead is one of Betty’s favorite things to do. They can walk as slow as they want and they don’t have to worry about anyone bothering them. Their arms swing gently as they walk, and their steps soon fall into a synchronized rhythm.

“My parents aren’t home tonight,” Betty mentions, “They’re babysitting the twins.” She glances at Jughead. “Want to come over?”

A smirk plays across Jughead’s face. “Do you even need to ask, darling?” He stops and places a tender kiss on Betty’s forehead. “I’d love to, Betts.” The idea of spending alone time with Betty has never sounded more appealing to him. All he wants from life, from this moment in time, is to love Betty Cooper in any and every way he can. Jughead wants to spoil her and take care of her; he wants to give her the world. That starts with tonight. He’s going to make sure of it.

“Hey, babe, why don’t we get this party started sooner,” an idea springs to Jughead’s mind and he stops walking. Betty raises her eyebrow in response. “With those short legs of yours, it’s going to take _ages_ for us to get home.” Jughead crouches down and gestures for Betty to jump on his back for a piggy back ride, “Hop on, baby!”

Betty giggles as she jumps onto Jughead’s back, wrapping her arms around his chest as she does. She feels like a tiny schoolgirl all over again. Once she has her grip, Jughead breaks into a run. “Hold on tight, Betts! It’s gonna be a wild ride!” Jughead yells as he runs down the sidewalk ignoring the strange looks of passersby. He jumps over bushes and sidesteps strangers walking as if he were in a video game. The sound of Betty’s laughter caresses his ears and he can’t wipe the goofy grin that sneaks across his face as he sprints to the finish line.

Once they reach Betty’s front door, Jughead gently sets her down. “How was the ride, ma’am?” He bows and extends his arm out with a flourish, triggering a fit of giggles from Betty.

“Oh, I’d say it was excellent service, good sir!” Betty curtsies before stepping closer to kiss Jughead on the cheek. “Thank you, Jug,” she adds, her tone more bashful. Jughead makes her feel ten feet tall sometimes. She doesn’t want anyone to pinch her.

They step inside and Jughead grab’s Betty’s hand. He leads her into the kitchen, lifts her up, and softly sets her down on one of the barstools. With her legs on either side of him, Jughead takes Betty’s face in his hands and kisses her lightly. Betty’s eyes flutter closed as she leans into the kiss and snakes her arms around his shoulders. “Jughead Jones,” she whispers into his mouth, a smile forming on her lips.

Jughead pulls away and presses his forehead against Betty’s. “Betty Cooper,” he murmurs. He closes his eyes and takes in her perfume— vanilla and jasmine. He commits it to memory. He never wants to forget this moment with his girl, or any moment with her for that matter. He pulls her into embrace with no intention of ever letting her go.

He kisses Betty’s forehead before asking, “You hungry? I’ve got a few ideas for dinner.” His voice is laden with a hint of something more sultry. _Yeah, I’ve got some ideas, all right._

Not wanting to spoil the moment, Betty decides she can handle something light. “A little bit,” she replies. “What do you have in mind?”

Jughead can’t disguise his smirk as he quips, “You’ll see,” and strides over to the refrigerator. He opens the door and spots them straight away: _cherries._ Thank God for Riverdale’s obsession with milkshakes. It guarantees that every home on the North Side will have some in its fridge. Jughead grabs the carton and strolls back over to Betty. “I thought we could start with something light,” he shakes the package.

 _Okay, he’s reading my mind._ Light is perfect. Betty can definitely do some cherries. “Oh, did you?” she retorts. Jughead nods in response, a glint of mischief shimmering in his eyes.

Grabbing a bowl on the way, Jughead empties the carton into it as he sits down next to Betty. He picks one up and softly commands, “Open wide, babe.” Betty obliges, and Jughead places a cherry inside of her mouth, keeping hold of the stem. Betty bites down slowly, locking eyes with her boyfriend and giving him the most seductive look she can muster. Jughead pulls the stem from her mouth and asks, “How was that?”

“Mmm,” Betty purrs as she licks her lips, making sure she keeps her eyes locked on Jughead’s.

“Another?” Jughead asks. It’s getting increasingly hard for him to maintain his composure. His pants suddenly feel three sizes too small.

Betty nods, careful not to break their eye contact. She opens her mouth and awaits Jughead’s next move. Her eyes never leave his as he reaches for another cherry.

Inspiration strikes Jughead, and instead of slipping the cherry into Betty’s mouth, he pops it into his own and pulls off the stem. Leaning forward, he catches Betty’s parted lips with his and he pushes the cherry into her mouth with his tongue, making sure to brush it against her lips as he does so.

Betty moans softly into his mouth before biting down on the sweet treat— now made even sweeter by being in her boyfriend’s mouth. She licks her lips once more, hoping some of the juice stains them.

Jughead can’t help but notice how soft Betty’s lips look as she slides her tongue across them. In its trail, a faint hit of red is left behind. _My, God, this woman is going to kill me._ He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Feeling emboldened by Jughead’s obvious arousal, Betty leans into him, placing her hands on his knees. She leans in as if she were to kiss him, but she sweeps past his mouth and gently nibbles on his earlobe. Her ego sings when she hears a soft groan escape Jughead’s lips.

“Betty,” he breathes. Jughead grabs her waist and pulls her so that there’s no space in between them. With feverish intensity, he slams his lips onto hers, pouring every ounce of frustration he feels into her. Jughead could explode from the love he feels for this woman— and from the frantic need he has for her in this moment.

Gripping Betty underneath her thighs, he picks her up. Betty responds by wrapping her legs around him, and he carries her to the couch. He lays her down gently before pausing to take in the sight of her. Her ponytail is disheveled and her lips are soft and swollen from their kiss. Jughead can see the rise and fall of her chest as she struggles to steady her breathing. “God, Betty, I love you,” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear.

Betty squirms under Jughead’s gaze. She briefly registers an unwelcome nervousness overtake her as his eyestravel across her body. _The lights are on._ Determined to push it aside, Betty begins to unbutton her shirt. _You can do this. He loves you and you want him._ She watches as Jughead diverts his attention to her fingers toying with the buttons. When she reaches the final button, she murmurs, “Take it off.”

Jughead doesn’t hesitate at Betty’s words and he leans down to slide her shirt over her shoulders and off of her. _My God, this girl is beautiful._ He places a soft kiss on her lips before leaving a trail of kisses down to her breasts. Jughead can feel Betty’s heart hammering underneath his lips as he kisses her, and it’s a serious turn-on. He makes his way back up to her mouth and kisses her on the lips— harder this time. He’s slipping his tongue into her mouth as he lets his hands wander her body. He brushes them down her back and pulls her closer to him. Jughead doesn’t want any space between them.

Betty can feel Jughead everywhere. Her body reacts to even the slightest touch and she suddenly wants his hands all over her. Throwing his beanie to the floor, she tugs at his hair as she deepens the kiss, thrusting her hips into his. She can hear a faint moan escape his lips and the heat of his breath on hers is enough to drive her wild. Betty slips her hands underneath the fabric of his shirt and she can feel all of the muscles in his back at work.

As if on cue, Jughead sits up and pulls his shirt over his head. Betty takes in every inch of him, suddenly very aware of the fact that she, herself is also shirtless and Jughead looks like _that._ She instinctively wraps her arms around herself, shrinking away from him before she even registers what she’s doing. A frown creeps onto her lips as her unease pushes itself back to the surface.

Jughead watches as his girlfriend recoils before his eyes, and his desire converts to concern. She’s pouting and her skin crinkles between her eyebrows as they furrow. He leans down and kisses the spot gently. “Your skin gets all crinkly between your eyebrows when you pout, Betts. It’s one of the things I love about you,” he says softly.

Betty looks at him. She wasn’t aware that she was pouting. “Really?” she asks.

“Oh yes,” Jughead responds. “Just like I love the little mole you have on your chin,” he places a soft kiss on Betty’s mole before continuing, “and I love your ponytails,” he gives her hair a gentle tug, “but I love it even more when you let your hair down.” Jughead pulls the hair tie from Betty’s hair and runs his fingers through it so that it settles around her face. “It frames your beautiful face so well, babe.”

Betty begins to relax a little. How is it that Jughead knows exactly what to say and do to ease her nerves? A small, shy smile begins to form on her lips.

Jughead notices his girlfriend’s lip turning upwards and continues his speech. “I love it when yousmile, Betty. Your smile could light up a room,” he declares as he places another kiss on her lips. “And when you pout, your bottom lips sticks out just a little bit,” he breathes before biting down on her lip. He pulls away and continues, determined to start showing Betty everything he loves about her. “I love your hands, and how they feel in mine,” he lifts Betty’s hands so that she’s no longer hiding under her arms and kisses them. Gently, he uncurls her fingers and kisses each of her palms before adding, “and I love your scars, because they’re a part of you that you’ve chosen to share with me.”

Betty can’t hide her smile any longer. “I love you, Jug,” she murmurs. Tears well up in her eyes, but not from the anxiety she felt moments ago. No, this time they’re happy tears. Jughead has been so patient with her throughout everything they’ve been through. He hasn’t run off when she thought he would, and he’s sitting before her now listing everything he loves about her— things she would have never expected. It’s overwhelming.

“I love you too, Betty. All of you.” He lets Betty’s hands drop to either side of her. “I love watching the way your chest moves when you breathe,” he kisses her along her clavicle, “and I love your rib cage, because it keeps your heart safe.” Jughead shifts so that he can trail kisses just underneath her breasts. “Your heart is so big, Betts. I’ve never known anyone as caring and compassionate as you are.” He sits back up and looks into her eyes. “Those are just a few of the things that make you beautiful, Betts. The list is endless.”

Betty’s bottom lip quivers as she fights back tears. _Maybe he really does think I’m beautiful._ She sits up so that they’re facing each other and caresses Jughead’s face. “Jughead Jones. I don’t deserve you,” she says as she rests her forehead against his.

“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you, Betty,” Jughead responds. He puts his arm around Betty and pulls her into him before kissing her temple. Now that he’s calmed down from their earlier shenanigans, his sole focus is taking care of Betty. Besides, they _do_ have all night with no parents. There’s plenty of time later for them to pick up where they left off.

“Betts, could you do me a favor?” he asks tentatively.

Betty arches her eyebrows. “Anything, Jug. You know that,” she answers.

“Will you eat something for me?” Anxiety grips Jughead. He knows Betty didn’t eat her lunch and he’s pretty sure she didn’t eat breakfast earlier. He expects Betty to protest, but he has to make sure she’s okay, and that includes making sure she eats.

Panic floods Betty’s system. She’s gotten through the entire day eating nothing but the two cherries Jughead fed her. She knows she should, but she’s so scared that if she eats anything she’ll want to throw it up again, and Betty couldn’t handle the guilt if she were to let Jughead and Veronica down like that. “Jug,” she sighs, unable to string together her thoughts.

Jughead turns so that he’s facing her straight on. “Please, Betty. It doesn’t have to be big. You need to eat,” he pauses as a smirk plays across his face before trying a different approach, “You’re going to need your energy for what I’ve got planned for tonight.”

Betty can feel color creeping up her cheeks. “If what just happened is any indicator, consider my interest piqued,” she stops and looks down at her fingers that are itching to curl inward, “I’ll try.” Betty’s words are quiet. She hopes her voice doesn’t betray the terror she feels at the idea of eating a meal.

Jughead’s entire body relaxes as he releases the breath he had been holding. _Note to self: sex sells with Betty Cooper._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I just wanted to thank you for your kind comments on this! I may not respond to all of them, but they don't go unnoticed. I really appreciate every single one!
> 
> I also wanted to apologize for the wait. I'm hoping to establish some sort of a schedule for this so I don't keep you waiting again :)
> 
> PS, it starts to get a little NSFW in this chapter, so you've been warned.

“Fuck!” Jughead shouts as he slices his finger instead of the tomato he had been working on. He had decided making a salad would be the easiest for Betty to handle, but he wanted to make sure it was packed with everything she needed. He gingerly sucked the blood away from his finger before running it under cold water.

“Here, Jug, let me help you,” Betty implores, grabbing Jughead’s now bleeding hand to assess the damage. She grabs a bandage and some ointment from a nearby cabinet and focuses her attention on cleaning him up.

Jughead notices Betty’s tongue peek out between her lips ever so slightly as her brows furrow in concentration. He smiles to himself at the sight. This girl— _his_ girl— has so much capacity to love that he wonders how she’s even real. He’s never met anyone so willing to give as Betty is. Not his mother, certainly not his father, none of the Serpents— they all had ulterior motives. But Betty? Betty didn’t have a selfish bone in her body. She would find a way to walk to the moon if it meant making someone else’s life better.

Betty straightens herself and says, “There. All better.” She admires her handiwork before meeting Jughead’s gaze. He’s staring at her like she’d just cured cancer. Tilting her head to the side she asks, “What?”

He shakes his head and says, “Nothing, Betts. I just love you, that’s all.” Jughead kisses the crown of Betty’s head before resuming work on dinner. The chicken was about ready and he wanted to make sure all of the cold ingredients were perfect for his girlfriend. _Betty deserves the best. In everything._

Betty shakes her head and smirks at the back of Jughead’s head as he walks away. She will never get tired of the paradox that is Jughead Jones. Given his background, it’s almost expected that he be a cold, distant gang member who stirs up trouble at every turn, but that’s not him. No, her Jughead is kind and caring and puts everyone’s needs before his own. Not once has he ever let his father’s so-called business interfere with his morals or values. He never waivers, and he’s _hers._

After a few more minutes of prepping, their meal is ready. Despite Betty’s unease, the chicken smells delicious and Jughead has managed to make a rainbow out of the salad. Her stomach grumbles with a sharp pain, reminding her just how hungry she is. Betty decides to ignore the pang of guilt that tries to take ahold of her as she tucks into her food.

As usual, Jughead is finished within minutes. While Betty slowly and purposefully picks at her food, Jughead watches her. He watches as she tucks a rogue strand of hair behind her ear before taking another forkful. He watches her take so much care into cutting up the chicken and spreading it evenly throughout her meal. Her eyes are focused on her utensils and the task at hand. Jughead never thought watching his girlfriend eat would be so relaxing, but once again Betty surprises him. It’s not just that she’s eating, which in itself allows Jughead to breathe a little easier, but it’s how methodical she seems to be. Her bites are choreographed and planned and it’s like he’s got a front row seat to the best show in town. _God, I love this girl._

Betty focuses on one bite at a time. _You can do this. Just one more bite. Remember how good it tastes and how hard Jughead worked to make it for you._ She takes care to eat slowly, trying to gauge her emotions as she does so. _Baby steps._ Each bite leaves her a little fuller than before, and Betty doesn’t ever want to feel the way she did at Pop’s again. She pauses to assess how she’s feeling, and she notices Jughead in her peripheral vision. He’s staring at her again and she can almost feel the love radiating out of him. As if that were all the assurance she needs, she continues to eat until her salad is gone.

Jughead gets up to clear the table and asks, “How was that?” his eyes full of concern. He wasn’t asking about how it tasted.

Betty shifts from side to side in her seat while she takes in his words. “Okay,” she says hesitantly, “Easier because I had you.”

Jughead’s entire face lights up before he walks away to clean the dishes. “Good,” he calls back to her. _Really good._ If being around Betty was all it took to get her to eat, then he’ll stake out a tent in her backyard right now. Jughead would do anything to keep Betty healthy and safe.

Betty lingers at the table for a few moments, trying to collect her thoughts. _That wasn’t so bad, was it?_ She tentatively places her hands over her stomach. Betty doesn’t necessarily feel full, physically, but she’s acutely aware of the food gurgling around in her stomach. Her throat constricts as she wills herself to hide it from Jughead. It would kill him if he knew how she was feeling.

She gets up and walks over to where Jughead stands rinsing the dishes at the sink. Betty wraps her arm around his waist and rests her head on his shoulder, careful to suck in her stomach so he can’t feel it against his back. “Thank you,” she says, praying her voice doesn’t betray her.

Jughead turns so that he’s facing his girlfriend and takes her hips in his hands. A small smile plays across his lips as he responds with, “Of course, Betts.” His eyes dart between hers before he adds, “You sure you’re okay? Honestly?”

A small wave of panic surges through Betty’s veins. She puts on her poker face— the one she’d mastered through years of practice with her mother— and smiles. “Yes, Juggie. I’m okay. I won’t break. I promise.” Lying to Jughead feels like the ultimate deception, but it’s what’s best. Betty couldn’t handle the thought of Jughead spending another second worrying about her. He didn’t deserve that. This is her problem, not his.

Jughead watches as Betty’s face changes. Something isn’t right; she’s not telling the truth. He swallows before running his hands up Betty’s arms to rest on her shoulders. Looking into her captivating green eyes, he decides tonight isn’t the night to push her. “Okay, babe,” his voice is soft and soothing as he forms small circles with his thumbs on her shoulders. Jughead makes a mental note to watch her closely— especially when she goes to the bathroom. She may not want him to know, but he’ll be damned if he let that stop him from keeping her safe.

 

***

 

Betty and Jughead are lying curled up on the couch while Confessions of a Serial Killer plays softly in the background. The light from the TV flickers and dances around them and Jughead snakes his arm around Betty’s midriff. 

Betty’s body tenses as she urgently grabs Jughead’s hand and moves it off of her stomach. She didn’t want him to feel the soft layer of fat that had taken up residence there. He thinks she’s beautiful, and Betty wants it to stay that way.

Under the dim light of the TV, Jughead can’t make out his girlfriend’s face. Sure, Betty had always been more comfortable with the lights off, but physically hiding away from him? This was new— different. He diverts his hand to her shoulder and tries to gauge her expression.

Hoping she’s giving nothing away, Betty nuzzles her head closer into Jughead’s chest. She just wants to enjoy this documentary with her boyfriend. _Like normal. Like before._ She tries to soften the blow by wrapping her own arm around his waist. This is nice. Betty can handle this. She subconsciously pulls her stomach in a little tighter as it brushes against Jughead’s toned abs. Even through his layers of clothing, Betty can feel his defined muscles.

Jughead thinks he can feel Betty tense her muscles as she scoots closer to him. Concern floods his body and he tightens his grip on her. It’s killing him that she isn’t opening up to him, but Jughead guesses he shouldn’t push his luck. She _did_ confide in him this weekend, and that was clearly a lot for her. He silently vows to make sure she feels loved at all times. He may not be able to hear what’s on her mind, but he can certainly try to make it positive.

 

***

 

Betty jerks awake. She and Jughead must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. She cranes her neck to sneak a glance at her sleeping boyfriend. Jughead looks so relaxed and peaceful while he sleeps; it’s as if, in his slumber, nothing can touch him. His dreams can play out how he pleases and he doesn’t have to worry about the outside world— especially not Betty.

She wonders if he ever dreams of her, and if he does, what those dreams entail. Does she haunt him with her insignificant and ridiculous problems, or does he imagine fantasies of them walking along beaches and exploring New York? Betty certainly hopes it’s the latter.

As gently as she can manage, Betty gets up and walks to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. The clock on the microwave reads 4:32. Idly, Betty wonders if her parents ever made it home, and if they did, what they thought of the sight of her daughter and her boyfriend intertwined on their living room couch. She takes a few sips of her water before tiptoeing back to the couch.

Snuggling back in between Jughead’s strong arms, she inhales his sweet scent. Cinnamon and peppermint. It smells familiar; it smells like _home._ Betty wasn’t one for nostalgia— her own home felt more like a prison than a place of comfort— but Jughead made her long for days she’d only dreamed of. She ached for days where she could be carefree and in love. She wanted to chase him around the kitchen counter with the sink sprayer at one in the morning and she wanted to suffocate him in kisses while they picnicked in a field of flowers. Being with Jughead made Betty long for a simpler time that never existed in the first place. Can you crave something imaginary?

Scooting her body as close to Jughead’s as the couch will allow, Betty allows her thoughts of simplicity and adventure lull her back to sleep.

 

***

 

Jughead stirs as he feels Betty’s weight leave the couch. Under the dim light of the TV that they fell asleep watching, he can see her gorgeous blonde locks disappear into the kitchen. His eyelids are still heavy with sleep, so he lets them fall shut while he listens for signs of his girlfriend’s return.

As he lets his thoughts drift to the events that transpired earlier, unease grips at Jughead. He can still feel the way Betty clenched her muscles to make herself smaller. It was like she wanted to take up as little room as possible. The thought breaks Jughead’s heart. Betty Cooper is a force to be reckoned with; she should feel confident and strong enough to exist— to take up as much space as she can. The world needs to take notice of Betty, not shrink her until she disappears.

Jughead can still feel the residual body heat radiating from the spot that Betty vacated. Everything about his girl is warm. She sprinkles light and positivity wherever she goes, leaving everything she touches better than before. Jughead only wishes she could do that for herself. _Why can’t she see how absolutely wonderful she is?_

He closes his eyes and imagines them somewhere far away. Jughead thinks Betty would like somewhere secluded— maybe a cabin on the countryside. He wants more than anything to just escape with her. He desperately wishes he could take her beyond the town limits of Riverdale to somewhere where they can start fresh and leave all of their problems and worries behind.

When Betty returns, Jughead smiles as she cuddles up to him. This is where she belongs. Betty Cooper belongs in his arms, and he wants to hold her forever.

 

***

 

“Veronica,” Jughead calls after her in the halls once he spots her. They don’t have much time before school starts and he has to talk to her.

“Jughead, hey!” she exclaims as she approaches. They were an unlikely pair, but if Betty loved Jughead enough to let him in, so could Veronica. She could at least try, anyway.

Jughead grabs her arm and pulls Veronica into the first empty classroom he can find. “Listen, I want to talk to you about Betty.” She could hear the concern is his voice, alarming her.

“What is it? Is she okay?” Panic shot through her. Betty has already had to deal with so much in her life. Veronica hates Alice Cooper for ever insinuating she was less than perfect— she suspects it happens much more often that the few times she’s witnessed.

“She’s okay for now,” Veronica visibly relaxes at Jughead’s words, “But I made her dinner last night and I could tell it made her uncomfortable. She wouldn’t let me touch her stomach all night. Ronnie, she won’t eat, and I’m afraid that when she does, she’ll—” Jughead stops, unable to finish his thought. “I don’t know what she would’ve done if I wasn’t there, Veronica.”

Veronica looked down at her heels. “You don’t think Pop’s was a one time thing, do you?” Her tone was low, serious. The image of her best friend hysterical in the bathroom at Pop’s swirled to the surface of her mind. She blinked back tears at the thought.

“I don’t know. I just know I should’ve seen it coming. Any time we’d start to,” he clears his throat awkwardly. Discussing his sex life— or lack thereof— with Veronica wasn’t on the top of his bucket list, “Get physical, Betty would always end up shying away from me. It’s not very often that she’s actually comfortable, which is fine I won’t push her, but I just— I should’ve figured it out.” The shame in Jughead’s voice stood out as if he were shouting it through a megaphone.

“Hey, Jug, it’s okay. You couldn’t have known. Betty thinks the world of you, okay?” Veronica attempted to comfort Jughead, which was a new concept for her. “Any time we have girl talk she can’t stop gushing about you and your, uh… skills.” She blushes, embarrassed to be admitting that she knew much more than Jughead thought about his relationship with Betty.

Jughead lets out a nervous laugh before responding, “No, no I’m not worried about that. She just always stops us, and I hate that I didn’t put it together until now. She’s always been so conflicted…” he trails off, not wanting to go into much more detail with Veronica.

 

_Betty moans as Jughead slides her panties down her legs before kissing her inner thighs. “Jug,” she breathes, fighting her body as she responds to his every move. His featherlight kisses along her thighs are heavenly, sending her to places she never thought were possible, but she can’t let him. She won’t._

_Jughead brushes his fingers over her center and Betty stills, grabbing his hand. “Jug,” she repeats a little more confidently. “Jug, I can’t.”Tears threaten to fall— both from her urgent desire to feel him everywhere and her fear of actually letting him follow through with it._

_He sits up immediately. “It’s okay, Betts. We don’t have to do anything. I just thought… I thought you wanted me to.” Jughead was embarrassed. She seemed so into it— did he get it wrong?_

_“No, Juggie! God, I did— I do. I just… can’t. I’m sorry.” Betty’s voice was weak and she knew her resolve wouldn’t last if she continued to lay there, naked and vulnerable, in front of the man she loves. She wraps the sheets around herself, covering up the body that she couldn’t bear to let him see._

_“Don’t be sorry, baby,” Jughead grabs her hand, oblivious to her inner turmoil, “We have all the time in the world for this stuff. If you’re not ready, we’ll wait.”_

_Betty smiles at him. She wanted nothing more than to let him carry on— to let him take her higher and higher until she can’t handle it any more— but she can’t stand the thought of him_ really _seeing her. She was terrified he’d see what everyone else sees; he’d see the disgusting girl that stares back at her every time she looks in the mirror. Certainly he’d go running for the hills. “I love you, Jug. I love you so much it hurts,” she responds._

 

Jughead is lost in thoughts of that night. He just thought they were moving too fast. How could he have been so ignorant to what was actually going on? That wasn’t even the first time something like that had happened.

Shaking him from his thoughts, Veronica speaks. “I didn’t know, either Jughead. It was right there in front of me and I didn’t have a clue. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Betty hides her feelings well. You didn’t do anything wrong, trust me.”

He shoots her a small smile. “Thanks, Veronica, and don’t be hard on yourself, either. We know now and all we can do is try to help her. Will you keep an eye on her for me? I’m just so worried.”

“Of course, Jug! You weren’t there at Pop’s. Seeing her like that, so broken, I’d do anything to keep her from feeling like that again. She’s my best friend.” Veronica lets a single tear slide down her cheek before hastily wiping it with the back of her hand. Veronica Lodge doesn’t cry. Not when there were bigger fish to fry.

“I know. I’m glad she has you,” Jughead pauses, nervousness gripping him yet again, “You’re a good friend, Ronnie.” His encounters with Veronica had always seemed strained, but he wanted her to know how much he appreciated her.

“Thanks,” Veronica responds. The bell rings and the pair exchange smiles before parting ways.

 

***

 

The day’s Vixen practice was drawing on, and Betty was beginning to regret not eating anything. Her limbs shook with every move, and she was starting to feel dizzy.

“Stop, stop!” Cheryl raised her hand. “You bitches think this is any good? Take it from the top, and try not to make me choke on my own vomit this time.”

The girls groaned as they took their starting positions. Betty wiped the sweat from her forehead, her hand shaking from exertion. She swallows, trying to get some moisture in her uncomfortably dry mouth, and puts her hand on Veronica’s shoulder to steady herself before the music starts.

Veronica gives her an inquisitive stare. “You okay, B? You don’t look too great.” In fact, Veronica takes a better look at her. She’s deadly pale and she’s dripping sweat.

“I’m fine,” Betty shakes her off, “Just out of shape,” Betty lies.

“Drink some water before we start, okay?” Veronica didn’t want to push her, but Betty really did look awful. She wonders whether or not she’s eaten today. _Where was she at lunch?_

Betty takes a swig from her water bottle before launching into their routine once more. She can feel her entire body shake as she dances her way through the number, and she worries her legs might give out. She begins to see spots in her vision and wonders if she’s going to throw up from the exertion she’s using to continue dancing. She stumbles, unable to stop herself, and Cheryl stops the music.

“Betty, you’re all over the place! Can you get your head out of your ass, or is this practice just too trivial for you?” Cheryl is spitting fire. She’s furious that Betty doesn’t seem to care that they have their rival game this Friday.

“Sorry, Cheryl,” Betty puts her hand on her throbbing forehead. The room starts to spin, and the spots in her eyes grow larger. Betty tries to move, but her feet feel like dead weight underneath her. Betty grasps at the air, searching for something to steady herself on. She feels her knees give out before darkness overtakes her and she tumbles to the floor.

Veronica shrieks and rushes to Betty’s side. Betty thinks she can hear Veronica saying her name, but everything is fuzzy. She can’t open her eyes. She can’t move. Pain sears through her body from where she hit the cement floor. Suddenly, everything goes silent.

“Oh, my God! Betty? Betty!” Veronica is frantic. “Somebody do something!” she shouts, exasperated at her teammates who are currently all just standing around like deer in headlights.

Everybody just continues to stare, not knowing what to do. Finally, Midge pipes up, “I’ll go get the nurse!” before running out of the gym.

 

***

 

Betty wakes up to the faint sound of beeping. She looks around at her unfamiliar surroundings before looking down at her aching body. She has an IV attached to her hand and wires attached at random to her body. _Where am I? Wasn’t I just at Vixen practice?_ Her mouth is dry and she realizes how thirsty she is. She looks beside her and spies a paper cup filled with water and drinks it all immediately.

Jughead shoots up from his spot in the chair in the corner of the room. “Betty! You’re up! Let me get the nurse for you, baby.” He kisses her forehead before rushing off to find a nurse.

Still confused, Betty finally registers that she must be in a hospital. She takes another look around and sees Veronica getting up to sit on the side of her bed.

“Betty, I was so worried. You wouldn’t wake up. I didn’t know what to do,” she sobs. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Veronica is desperate to care for her friend. She felt helpless watching her fall to the ground, and even more so in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

“What happened?” Betty croaks. Her throat is sore and swollen.

Veronica looks around the room nervously. “Betty, you passed out at practice.”

Panic surges through Betty’s veins. “Do they— do they know why?” She didn’t want anyone to know she wasn’t eating. She skipped lunch altogether so nobody would notice her sitting there without taking a single bite.

Veronica gives Betty a sympathetic look. “Well, they have an idea, but they wanted to wait for you to wake up so they could ask you some questions.” She knew it had to be because Betty didn’t eat, but she didn’t want her to panic. It was clear Betty was trying harder to hide it, and Veronica didn’t want to make the situation worse. She didn’t want to let it go, though, either.

Betty lets out a frustrated breath. “Fuck,” she murmurs, more to herself than Veronica.

Hesitantly, Veronica decides to ask, “B, have you eaten recently?” There’s fear in her eyes as she waits for a response. She doesn’t want Betty to spiral, but Veronica also needed to make sure she was okay.

Closing her eyes, Betty shakes her head. “Not really, not since Pop’s. Just a salad with Jughead last night.” There was no point in lying to Veronica. Even if she did, she passed out, for Christ’s sake. She would’ve found out one way or another.

Veronica gives Betty’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Betty, you need to eat.”

“It’s not that simple, V,” Betty replies, almost pleading with her best friend to understand. “Every time I eat I feel disgusting, like every bite was a mistake. My body feels heavy and uncomfortable and I’m so aware of the fat everywhere.” She swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she continues, “I can’t control myself, V. I’m either not eating for days at a time or—” she stops. Veronica only knows about Pop’s, not any of the other times.

“Or what, Betty?” Veronica’s heart sinks. How long has this been going on without anyone noticing? She thought Pop’s was just the beginning, but now she’s worried it was just the first time Betty got caught.

Before Betty could formulate an answer, Jughead walks in with a nurse. Thankful for the distraction, she smiles at him. He takes a seat on the other side of Betty and kisses her cheek.

“Hello, Elizabeth. I’m Nurse Sampson, but please feel free to call me Ellie. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?” Betty nods. “Alright, perfect. None of your tests gave us much cause for panic, but your glucose levels are alarmingly low. When was the last time you ate?”

 _Man, Ellie cuts right to the chase._ “Last night. I had a chicken salad.”

Ellie writes something on her clipboard. “And before that?”

Betty shifts uncomfortably in her hospital bed. “I had a milkshake on Saturday.”

“I see. So, if I’m understanding correctly, you’ve only had a milkshake and a salad over the past 96 hours?” Ellie continues to write on her clipboard, occasionally looking up to make eye contact with Betty.

Betty glances at Jughead and Veronica before answering with a weak, “Yes.”

Ellie purses her lips. “Alright, we’ll get you hooked up to some fluids to get you the proper nutrition and to monitor your glucose levels,” she states before exiting the room.

“Betty,” Jughead starts.

“Jug, please. Don’t.” She gives him a pleading look.

Jughead makes eye contact with Veronica before resigning. “Okay, baby.” He carefully wraps his arm around her. “You know we’re here for you, though, right?”

Betty nods before burying her head in Jughead’s shoulder. She just wants to forget this day ever happened. She wants to sink in to Jughead and never surface. She wishes it could be that simple. Veronica squeezes her hand again and guilt overtakes her. These people— _her people—_ don’t deserve what she’s putting them through. She starts to cry, silently staining Jughead’s shirt with her tears.

He strokes her hair and lets her cry into his shoulder, saying nothing. He looks once more to Veronica and mouths, “Talk later,” to her. For now, though, Betty needs him, and he wouldn’t leave her side even if his life depended on it.

Veronica nods and moves to the chair in the corner, giving Betty a little bit of room to be with her boyfriend. Her heart breaks knowing how much pain Betty is in, and if teaming up with Jughead is what it takes to make her see how beautiful she is, then that’s exactly what Veronica will do.

Everyone turns when the door swings open. Alice waltzes in, her voice scolding, “Elizabeth Cooper. What happened?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice strides forcefully into the room, glaring at both Jughead and Veronica in the process. “Jughead.” She gives him a pointed look before turning her attention to Veronica. “Veronica. Do you mind giving me a moment alone with my daughter?” Her tone is pleasant, but everyone in the room knows Alice’s question wasn’t really a question.

Betty feels her throat go dry. She should’ve expected her mom to show up— she  _ is  _ in the hospital, after all— but seeing her standing in front of her was a whole other story. If looks could kill, Betty was certain she’d be six feet under. “Mom,” she started weakly.

Alice strides forcefully into the room, glaring at both Jughead and Veronica in the process. “Jughead.” She gives him a pointed look before turning her attention to Veronica. “Veronica. Do you mind giving me a moment alone with my daughter?” Her tone is pleasant, but everyone in the room knows Alice’s question wasn’t really a question.

Veronica shoots Betty a sympathetic look before exiting the room with Jughead following closely behind her. Betty shivers, suddenly feeling like the temperature in the room has dropped by at least ten degrees. She stares apprehensively at her mother, anxiety working it’s way up her spine and clawing at her throat.

“Elizabeth, darling, this is sloppy at best,” Alice starts. Betty stares, dumbfounded and mouth agape, at her mother as the realization of what she’s insinuating sets in. Alice rolls her eyes. “Oh, honestly, Elizabeth, it’s not like this is some huge secret. I must say, I’m impressed you’ve taken any initiative at all to correct the situation, but you really do need to be more careful. This is a small town, Elizabeth. We wouldn’t want to be the subject of the town gossip, now would we?”

Betty continues to stare at her mother, shocked by the words that are coming from Alice’s mouth. “Mom, I— What are you saying?” she stammers incredulously.

Alice shrugs before continuing casually, as if they were discussing the weather, “We both clearly agree something needs to be done about your weight, honey, but if you’re going to continue with Vixens— which you should— you’re going to need to be strategic about what you put into your body, and  _ when _ you put it there. We Coopers have a reputation to uphold and you wouldn’t want to taint your  _ perfect _ image, now would you?”

Betty winces at her mother’s use of the word ‘perfect.’ “I’m sorry, Mom,” is all she can manage to croak out in response. Her eyes sting with unshed tears as her throat begins to constrict.

“You should be, Elizabeth. This is an embarrassment and if it happens again, people will start to ask questions— questions you don’t want them knowing the answers to.” Alice glares at Betty as she finishes, furious that her daughter let the situation get so out of control. She should know better.  _ Did I teach her nothing? _

Betty fiddles with wires of the heart monitor stuck to her finger and avoids her mother’s gaze. Of course, she knew she was an embarrassment, but hearing it so harshly made her stomach churn uncomfortably. “You’re right, Mom,” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper. “I am an embarrassment.” Betty lets her statement hang in the air, unsure of whether or not she wanted to say more.

Before Betty could continue, however, Alice chimes in, “I know I’m right, Elizabeth. The last thing your father and I need right now is a daughter like you.” Her words cut through Betty like a knife. “We have worked so hard to be a respected family in this town, and we certainly don’t need  _ another _ troubled daughter ruining everything we’ve achieved. When we sent Polly away we had to do serious damage control, and I will not let you force us into repeating that.” Alice lets out a slow breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. She needs to regain composure—  _ someone  _ in this family needs to be level-headed.

Blinking furiously to keep her tears from falling, Betty looks at her mother. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she repeats. “I didn’t think.” She feels her fingers itch to curl inwards and Betty fights to keep her cool. She can not let her mom win.  _ Not again. _

“No, you didn’t think, Elizabeth. You never think. I’ve always had to coach you on how to act. Honestly, I’m shocked someone like Veronica even glanced in your direction when she came to town,” she scoffs at Betty, an icy glint in her eye. “You must be the Lodge’s newest charity case if she’s decided to continue this ridiculous friendship. Why else would she hang around someone who needs constant fixing?”

Betty feels the air evaporate from her lungs at her mother’s words. “Mom,” she breathes. “Y-You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Giving up the fight, she curls her fingers into her palms, letting the sting of her nails distract her from the anguish she feels at her mother’s harsh words.  _ She’s wrong. Veronica loves you. She’s your best friend.  _ Betty wills herself to hold onto the truth as Alice’s words ring in her ears.

Alice lets out a shrill, hollow laugh. “Oh, honey. Don’t kid yourself. You know I’m right. Even that trailer trash Jughead Jones can do better than you. You’re a mess. You let your emotions rule your every move and you can’t hold it together long enough to do anything for yourself. Veronica got you your spot on the Vixens. Your father and I’s influence with the Register got you your position with the Blue and Gold. And what have you done for yourself? You’ve binged on your emotions and now you have to starve yourself in an attempt to fix your careless mistakes.”

Sobs escape from Betty’s mouth as her mother rips into her. The warmth from the blood dripping down her palms reminds her that this is real, this isn’t a nightmare. Anxiety begins to grip at her ribs and coil down her spine until it takes root in her nerves. Betty can feel her heart palpitate unevenly as panic shudders through her system. It’s like her mother has latched on to all of her biggest insecurities and is throwing them in her face. Betty’s entire body trembles as she fights to maintain even a tiny bit of control over the situation. “N-no,” she stammers. “You’re wrong.” Betty tries desperately to keep her voice even, but she can hear the weakness break through with each syllable.

“No, Elizabeth, I’m not,” Alice gives Betty a pointed look. “Now you listen to me. Until we can get this under control, you are not to socialize. That means no Veronica and  _ especially _ no Jughead. You are to go to school and practice and come straight home until we can get your childish emotional breakdowns in check. Do you understand me?”

Betty nods her head, unable to speak. This is a side of her mother she’s never seen before— not to this degree. It’s like she’s triggered something in Alice that has unleashed her fury and Betty doesn’t know how to stop it. She can usually calm her mother down with nods and agreements, but this is an entirely different level of vindictive. Fear floods her system as she searches her mother’s eyes for a hint of compassion; to her horror, Betty finds nothing but disgust. She swallows hard, desperately trying to rid her throat of the lump that’s taken up residence there.

Alice shoots Betty a half-hearted smile. “Good girl,” she says as she stiffly pats Betty’s hand. “Listen to me and you won’t end up like Polly. Learn from her mistakes, darling.”

  
  


***

  
  


Veronica paces as she anxiously waits for Alice to let her and Jughead back into Betty’s hospital room. “What’s taking them so long? What could she possibly be saying to her in there?” She stops, a sudden panic washing over her. “Oh, god, Jughead.  _ What is she saying to her?” _ Each syllable comes out short and staccato as she stares, wide-eyed and horrified, at Jughead.

Jughead’s features soften at the sight of Veronica in such distress over her best friend. “Hey, I’m sure it’s fine,” he lies as he awkwardly places a hand on her shoulder in an attempt at comfort. Never in a million years did Jughead think he’d need to comfort a hysterical Veronica Lodge. “Her daughter’s in the hospital. It’s probably just an emotional time for her,” he wills himself to believe his words as he says them. Jughead raises his eyebrows and looks into Veronica’s eyes as he gives her a reassuring nod. In all honestly, he’s just as worried as Veronica, but he needs to be strong— for both Veronica  _ and  _ Betty.

She wants nothing more than to believe him, but all Veronica can think about is how cold Alice was towards Betty the last time she saw her— not to mention what Alice said to her before Betty came to get Veronica when she got to the Cooper’s house that day.

 

_ “Veronica, darling!” Alice greets her. “What a lovely surprise. Betty is expecting you, I assume?” _

_ Veronica smiles at Mrs. Cooper as she steps inside. “Yes, she is,” she answers. _

_ Alice nods and narrows her eyes in Veronica’s direction as she cocks her head to the side. “Do you not find it stressful, dear? Always looking after someone who is incapable of taking care of herself? Elizabeth is hardly worth the hassle. Surely someone like you can find a friend more worthy of your precious time.” _

_ “I– I beg your pardon, Mrs. Cooper?” Veronica stares at Alice with wide eyes, shocked that she’d ever say something so horrible about her own daughter. _

_ “I just wonder why someone as beautiful and polished as you would want to hang around someone as unstable and unpredictable as my Elizabeth.” Alice blinks at Veronica, a small smile playing across her face in mock sincerity. _

_ Before Veronica has the chance to respond, she hears Betty come down the stairs to greet her. _

 

Tearing herself from the memory of that awful day, Veronica looks at Jughead. “How do you know that, Jughead? How do you know Alice isn’t in there tearing her apart?” Veronica asks, torment evident in her eyes.

The truth is, he doesn’t. Jughead can only hope that Alice has enough sense to comfort her daughter while she lays in that hospital bed. He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility that anything else could be happening beyond that door, no matter how much he suspects it. His eyes dart between Veronica’s before he answers her, “I don’t.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “But I can hope for the best. We have to stay positive for Betty, Veronica. We have to be strong for her. She needs us.”

Veronica nods slowly. Jughead is right. The last thing Betty needs right now is for her to panic— she’s sure Betty is already panicking enough for the both of them. She takes a deep, shaky breath to regain her composure. “Okay, okay, you’re right,” Veronica concedes. “But what can we do to help her? I feel so powerless. I can’t stop thinking about how broken and helpless she looked that day at Pop’s. Now she’s in the hospital and, God, Jughead! I was with her all day and I didn’t notice. I could’ve stopped this from happening. I could’ve—”

Jughead puts his hands firmly on Veronica’s shoulders to silence her. Looking directly into her eyes, he says, “This is not your fault, Veronica. Betty didn’t want anyone to know, and I’m willing to bet she  _ especially _ didn’t want you to know. You got her here. You didn’t leave her side, not even in the ambulance. You’re doing everything you can. Betty is lucky to have you as a friend.”

Veronica relaxes her shoulders and juts out her bottom lip ever so slightly at Jughead’s words. Her brows furrow together and she cocks her head to the side as she looks at him. Veronica is so grateful to him at that moment that she forgets all the uncertainty about their newfound friendship and pulls him in for an all-consuming embrace. Jughead can feel her tears soak into his shirt as she slumps into him.

Unsure of how to handle an upset girl that  _ isn’t _ Betty, Jughead awkwardly pats Veronica on the back in a feeble attempt to comfort her. “It’ll be okay, Ronnie,” he murmurs hesitantly.  _ Am I allowed to call her that? Are we friends now? Is this what friends do?  _ Jughead feels mildly uncomfortable, but he figures he and Veronica have moved past their strange pseudo-feud after everything that’s happened over the past few days.

“Thanks, Jughead,” Veronica says as she pulls away. She sniffles and adds, “Betty is lucky to have you, too.” After all of the weirdness between them, Veronica is relieved that she can finally let her guard down around Jughead. If she’s being honest, she wasn’t sure why there was any tension to begin with. Regardless, she’s glad at least  _ something _ good has come as a result of the events of the past four days.  _ God, has it really only been four days? It feels like it’s been months since all of this started. _

Veronica’s eyes snap to the door behind her as Alice appears in its frame. She frantically grabs for Jughead’s arm and pulls him into the next room, which is thankfully empty. Veronica glares at Alice as she walks past them. Alice has a wickedly smug smirk plastered across her face and there’s a glint in her eye that sends chills down Veronica’s spine. Alice looks as if she’s just secured a victory, and an unsettled feeling takes root inside Veronica.  _ What has that bitch done to my best friend?  _ She glances up at Jughead and her eyes meet his in an uneasy stare. Wordlessly, they agree; they’re going to find out.

 

***

 

As her mother exits her hospital room in a fury of fake enthusiasm, Betty wills herself to stand. Her legs carry her to the opposite side of the room of their own accord, and she begins to pace. Snippets of their conversation whirl around in Betty’s mind and she can feel herself begin to panic. The anxiety snakes it way down her spine and suddenly it feels as if the air in her lungs has evaporated.  _ The last thing your father and I need right now is a daughter like you – You must be the Lodge’s newest charity case – Even that trailer trash Jughead Jones can do better than you –  _ Before Betty realizes what’s happening, she’s on the ground, her knees curled into her chest, and violent sobs wrack her body. She’s shaking and gasping for as much breath as she can get while she fights to keep her airways open. She looks down and registers that somewhere between pacing and falling to the hospital floor, she’s drawn blood on her palms.

Betty painfully curls her fingers in further, no longer caring about her physical well being. It’s as if her mother has single handedly confirmed her deepest fears and insecurities and they’re manifesting themselves permanently in Betty’s life. The doubt, the hatred, the fear have planted their roots deep within her bones and her body is crumbling beneath her at the weight of it all.

As she sits, she thinks she registers the door open and close, but Betty can’t be bothered to look— she’s too focused on getting one breath after another into her lungs.

Jughead stands frozen in shock at the sight of his girlfriend while Veronica lets out a mangled cry before rushing to her side. She brushes the now wet strands of hair out of Betty’s face before softly asking, “Betty, babe, what happened? What’s wrong?” She turns to Jughead, her eyes shifting almost immediately into the coldest look he thinks he’s ever seen. “I’ll kill her. Jughead I swear to God if I ever see Alice Cooper again I’ll–”

Veronica feels a soft hand on her arm. She returns her attention to Betty and is met with her wide, broken stare. Betty sniffles before trying to stammer out a distraction– anything to stop Veronica– but she can only squeak out unintelligible whimpers.

Jughead’s voice finally returns to him, but he only has the strength to say, “Betty,” in the most heartbreaking tone she’s ever heard escape his lips. Betty sobs even harder while Veronica pulls her into her arms. She strokes her hair and coos into her ear while Jughead remains glued to his spot near the door. Veronica had described what Betty was like that day at Pop’s, but seeing her–  _ actually seeing her _ – so broken and beaten down was another thing entirely. Jughead wasn’t sure he had a heart that could beat any longer; seeing Betty crumpled and weak on the floor of her hospital had shattered his already splintered heart until there was nothing left.

Veronica continues to stroke Betty’s hair and rock her while they sit on the cold hospital floor until she feels Betty’s breaths begin to slow. “B, talk to me,” she pleads.

Betty straightens herself up and prepares herself for the inevitable. The two people she cares most about in the world are right in front of her, clearly concerned, and she has to push them away. Her already tired eyes sting as fresh tears well up, threatening to spill over her lashes at any second. “I can’t,” she whispers.

Veronica stares in disbelief for a beat before she responds, “Betty, whatever happened, you can trust me.” She gestures to Jughead who still seems to be paralyzed. “You can trust  _ us.” _

“No V, you don’t understand,” Betty shakes her head frantically while she tries desperately to free herself from Veronica’s embrace. She steadies her voice as much as she can before repeating, “I can’t,” in the strongest tone she can manage.

Confusion and a brief flash of hurt play across Veronica’s features. Before she can say anything, however, Jughead strides purposefully across the room, stands Betty up, and holds firmly onto her shoulders. “Betty Cooper,” he starts, “I know what shutting people out looks like,  _ trust me,  _ and I’ll be damned if I let you do that.”

Betty stares down at her feet.  _ Of course Jughead would figure it out. He knows me better than anyone.  _ She keeps her eyes downcast as she responds with, “I’m not.” She can hear the childlike and defensive tone in her voice and she knows she isn’t fooling him.

Jughead tilts her chin up with his index finger, forcing Betty to meet his gaze. “Betty,” he pleads. His voice is softer now; he’s unable to hide the pain he feels any longer. Betty thinks she could collapse back onto the floor at any second. He pulls her in closer before continuing. “Don’t do this. Let us in. Let us  _ love you _ , Betty.”

The tears that had been welling up in her eyes break free and Betty can feel Jughead’s shirt dampen. She doesn’t deserve him or Veronica. Her mom was right– she’s just a burden. Taking a second to collect herself and memorize Jughead’s scent, she nuzzles closer into his neck before pulling herself completely out of his grasp.

She takes a deep, painful breath. “No,” she insists. Her tone is hard and firm. Betty needs to get her point across. No more crying. Not today. “You need to leave.” She pauses to steady her voice. “Both of you.”

Jughead blinks at her while Veronica inches closer to where they stand. “Betty, what’s happening?” Her voice is frantic and it takes all of Veronica’s willpower to remain strong for her best friend. Clearly something is going on. Jughead just stares at Betty and then at Veronica. Betty can practically see the wheels turning in his eyes. She has to make this believable.  _ She has to. _

“I’m serious, guys. I– I don’t want you here.” Betty silently curses herself for letting her voice break.  _ They have to believe you. Pull yourself together.  _ At this rate, Betty wouldn’t be surprised if she hit bone in her hands for how hard she’s been clenching her fists. She grinds her teeth together before continuing, “I appreciate the concern, but you both have done enough.” She holds her hand up when she notices Veronica getting ready to protest. “I’m serious. I need you to leave me alone. Can’t you see that?” Betty’s tone grows harsher than she wants but she’s too deep in her lies to care. “Just let me deal with this on my own. I’m not a child. I can take care of myself. I don’t need either of you to smother me. It’s just making things worse,” Betty’s voice lowers as she says her last words. She closes her eyes and hopes she’s made it believable.

Jughead swallows hard, his lips pursed together in a firm line. Veronica looks as though she’s just been slapped square across the face. Betty slowly exhales; she knows she’s won. For now.

“Right, okay then,” Jughead nods and turns to leave before Betty grabs his arm.

“I still love you, Jug. You know that, right?” Her eyes burn into his. She’s silently pleading with him not to leave her. She may need to keep him at arm’s length but she can’t actually  _ lose _ him. It would kill her.

Jughead softens slightly before regaining his composure. “I know, Betty. I love you too.” The pain in his voice is almost too much for Betty to bear.

She turns her attention to Veronica. Tears start streaming down her cheeks and Betty thinks she can see her friend shaking. “You don’t have to be alone, B. Just remember that,” she says before she walks out of the room. Jughead gives Betty one last painful look before following Veronica and disappearing behind the hospital door.

 

***

 

Jughead and Veronica make it all of three steps into the hospital parking lot before they sit down on the curb, each desperately trying to process everything that transpired just moments before in Betty’s room.

Veronica huffs in frustration, wiping away the rebel tears that spill down her cheek. She isn’t sad. She’s angry– angry at Alice for pushing her daughter to the point of panic, angry with Betty for letting her win; but most of all, she’s angry at herself for crying over Betty’s obvious lies.

Jughead brings a hand up to cover his face, dragging his fingers down and letting out a deep sigh. The range of emotions he witnessed play out in Betty’s actions haunt his thoughts– from seeing her curled into herself on the hospital floor sobbing with blood trickling down her palms, to her vehement declaration he’s sure was meant to push them away, straight down to the moment he saw a flicker of  _ his _ Betty– the  _ real _ Betty– come back and remind him that she loves him. Still, though, he can’t deny that Betty’s words hit a nerve, no matter how staged they seemed. 

Adjusting his face into what he hopes is an indifferent expression, he looks at Veronica. “Did you buy that?” he asks. 

Veronica looks him straight in the eyes and answers, “Not a single word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to give a huuuge shout out to Katie (@bugggghead) for becoming my beta and being my biggest cheerleader and supporter while I struggled to write this. Her help has been invaluable and I owe her the world.
> 
> Secondly, I also want to thank Summer (@srainebuggie) for being a sounding board and helping me write Alice's character. I honestly couldn't have done it without her!
> 
> Lastly, thank you ALL for your patience and apologize for how long it took me to post this chapter! Life has gotten a little crazy, but I'm hoping to update more regularly, now! Be sure to follow me on tumblr (@betty-cooper) for updates and sneak peeks, or if you just want to chat and hang out!
> 
> As always, every kudos and comment is HUGELY appreciated. Your comments recently are what motivated me to keep writing. I'm awful at responding to them, but just know I read every single one and love them all. You all are rockstars!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betty's thoughts drift to Jughead and Veronica. What will they think when she doesn’t show up to school tomorrow? Oh, God, what will they tell Archie? Is Kevin going to care enough to ask, too? She can feel the familiar jolts of panic start to inch their way up her spine as thoughts begin to race around her mind. It was as if her subconscious had morphed into the scene of an illegal drag race in mere seconds, and all of her thoughts were skidding and screeching to secure a win.

Betty’s sitting on the edge of her bed, head in her hands. She was released from the hospital after an hour of fluids with a new prescription and strict instructions to stay on  bedrest for the next three days while her glucose levels even out. She can feel her head throbbing underneath her palms and she wonders idly how long she’s been sitting like this. Her eyes feel swollen and tired from tears that have long since dried and now all she can feel is the blinding pain in her head.

Her thoughts drift to Jughead and Veronica. What will they think when she doesn’t show up to school tomorrow? _Oh, God, what will they tell Archie? Is Kevin going to care enough to ask, too?_ She can feel the familiar jolts of panic start to inch their way up her spine as thoughts begin to race around her mind. It was as if her subconscious had morphed into the scene of an illegal drag race in mere seconds, and all of her thoughts were skidding and screeching to secure a win.

She takes a shaky breath and stands. Betty strides purposefully to her bathroom sink and splashes water on her face before staring her reflection down in the mirror. She’s gripping the porcelain sink so tightly that her knuckles turn a shade of white that almost matches the sink itself. “Pull yourself together, Cooper,” she scolds herself. Opening the medicine cabinet, Betty’s eyes dart to the bottle of Xanax on the top shelf. Normally, she didn’t like to rely on drugs to control her emotions, but tonight she just wants it all to stop. Betty’s had enough brain activity in the past twenty-four hours– hell, the past _week–_ to last a lifetime. She pops the lid off the bottle and uses water from the sink to force the small pill down her throat.

Betty walks back to her bed to lie down, the mental effects of the pill already quieting her mind. She knows the drug won’t _actually_ take effect for another twenty minutes, but just knowing it’s in her system is enough to begin to calm her frantic nerves. Betty snuggles herself under the covers and lays there, letting her body heat act as a furnace to warm her bed as the Xanax lulls her into a dreamless sleep.

 

***

 

The warning bell screams through the halls crowded with students scurrying off in the directions of their classrooms and Veronica flinches at the sound. She had been on edge since the moment she left the hospital, and her lack of sleep was doing nothing in the way of nerves. Briefly, she contemplates ditching school altogether. She slams her locker shut and glances at the clock on the wall. She has seven minutes to get to first period, but all she wants to do is run to Betty’s house and scream until Betty lets her in.

Veronica hadn’t heard from Betty since she insisted they leave her alone. That was almost thirteen hours ago. Veronica thinks the longest they’d gone without at least a text was the eight hours of sleep they got each night. Outside of that, Veronica was used to Betty’s ever-present commentary in her life. They talked about everything– outfit choices, annoying teachers, Cheryl Blossom’s latest rampage, details from date nights with Archie and Jughead, _everything._ Betty being so closed off and distant was something foreign to Veronica, and it had been growing and expanding until it was the size of a mountain in that hospital room and Veronica was desperate to climb it.

Somehow, Veronica had led herself into her first class of the day and the first thing she notices is Betty’s seat. Betty’s _empty_ seat. She sneaks a glance to the teacher and when she sees that he’s sufficiently distracted, she pulls out her phone to send Betty a quick text. _Leave her alone my ass,_ she thinks as her fingers fly across the touchscreen keys.

 

**Hey, B. Hope you not being here means you’re resting and feeling better. Riverdale High is painfully drab without you strutting your  
stuff through its halls.**

 

Veronica hits send, satisfied with the tone of her message. It’s light and playful, _like normal_ , but it still sends the message, “I know you aren’t here. You can’t avoid me forever,” without hitting Betty over the head with it. Veronica knows she’s going to have to be a lot more subtle from now on if she has any hope of helping her best friend.

The final bell rings, signaling the beginning of first period, and Veronica doesn’t hear a word her teacher says. She spends the next forty-five minutes sneaking glances at her phone whenever she can chance it and letting her thoughts run wild with possibilities of what Betty is up to at home. Sure, it was understandable that she stay home after being hospitalized, but still. Betty wasn’t at school and that made Veronica more nervous than she’d like to admit. The entire period becomes a haze of what-ifs and worst case scenarios. When the bell rings again– this time to signal the end of the period– Veronica almost falls out of her seat when she jumps at the sound.

She clambers out of the classroom and immediately sets her aim on Jughead. Veronica has to find him. She has to know if he’s heard from Betty, if he’s as worried as she is. Something about Betty’s absence feels eerily unsettled, and Veronica just can’t shake the feeling that grips at her nerves. When she sees a whisper of a grey beanie at the end of the hall, Veronica all but runs to catch up to it.

“Jughead!” she calls out. The beanie reappears. The face housed underneath it is scrunched up in deep thought and Veronica instantly knows Jughead is just as concerned as she is.

Jughead stills and waits for Veronica to catch up to him, jerking his head towards an empty classroom. He makes sure Veronica is fully inside and the door is shut and locked before he speaks. “Veronica,” he starts, his voice authoritative and concise. “Something’s wrong.”

Veronica takes a deep breath and slowly exhales as she closes her eyes. “I know,” she responds. Her voice is weak and Veronica wonders if _she’ll_ be the one breaking down next.

“Why don’t you try to stop by Betty’s house after school,” Jughead suggests. “I think– I think it might be better for her to see her best friend right now. I’m not sure if she can handle…” Jughead gestures his hand vaguely, unable to finish his train of thought. In truth, he isn’t sure _he_ can handle seeing _Betty._ Rationally, he knows there’s something causing Betty’s isolation. Jughead suspects Alice Cooper is the culprit. Still, hearing Betty so blatantly tell him that he was making it worse had been replaying in his mind on repeat. _Everyone leaves. You’re not loveable. Not unconditionally._ His thoughts grew steadily darker with each passing moment.

Narrowing her eyes and cocking her head slightly, Veronica looks at Jughead. She scans his face and purses her lips. “I don’t know what’s up with you, Jones, but you need to get it together. I can only handle one crisis at a time,” Veronica snaps. Her tone is just harsh enough to jolt Jughead back to his senses but not harsh enough to sting.

“Right.” Jughead answers with a short nod, his gaze still unfocused. _An issue for another day,_ he thinks _._ Tabling his looming emotions, he turns his attention back on Veronica. “I still think it would be good for Betty to see you. I don’t want her feelings for me to confuse her any more than she already is,” he elaborates.

Veronica ponders the idea for a moment. Jughead does have a point. “Alright,” she acquiesces. “I’ll stop by after Vixen practice and see if she’s okay.” Veronica’s eyes grow wistful. “Maybe she’s just resting after yesterday and we’re both overreacting.” _A girl can dream, can’t she?_

 

***

 

Betty wakes up to the sound of her phone vibrating off her nightstand and onto the floor. She can’t remember the last time she woke up feeling so rested. _Must’ve been the Xanax._ She sits up and stretches out her arms, letting out a satisfied sigh in the process before reaching down to retrieve her phone. Betty scrolls through her lock screen and sees missed texts from Jughead and Veronica– _naturally–_ as well as Kevin, Archie, and even Cheryl. Although, Betty supposes the text from Cheryl is some underhanded way to berate her for missing Vixen practice later.

After copying and pasting a generic reply to Kevin, Archie, and Cheryl, Betty focuses her attention to her best friend and boyfriend. She decides to tackle Veronica first. She doesn’t want to completely cut Veronica out, but she needs to make it clear that she meant business in that hospital room. Betty can’t have Veronica butting in– it’s just what’s best. She sighs and types out her response.

 

**Bedrest for three days, doctor’s orders.**

 

She types and deletes her message three times before ultimately deciding to press send. It’s not like Betty _enjoyed_ being cold to Veronica– she was just doing what needed to be done. Hopefully Veronica would understand once Betty could get it together enough to let her back in and tell her why.

Betty taps on her conversation with Jughead next, and she almost cries at his words.

 

 **Betts… honestly I've rewritten this text a million times. I don't know what to say to make anything better, especially when I know  
you need your space. I won't butt in on anything you don't want me to anymore, but just know I'm here whenever you decide you  
** **need me to be. I love you. I will never stop loving you. Promise me you'll stay safe?**

 

She reads and rereads the text so many times, Betty loses count. Eventually, she just resorts to staring at her screen and willing a response to magically appear. She can’t be as cold to Jughead as she was to Veronica. Not after what he said. Betty taps her screen when it dims to light it up again. She sighs as she starts trying to form a response. She types what feels like a million responses and deletes them all before she settles on:

 

**I promise. I love you too.**

 

Betty hopes it’s enough– enough to tell him she doesn’t want to be away from him, that she _does_ love him more than he’ll ever realize, that she misses him more than anything– to tell him _everything_ she can’t bring herself to say.Betty throws her phone to the end of her bed and wraps her arms around her face. She lets out a groan. _When did my life get so fucked up?_

Idly, Betty supposes it’s been a gradual decline. She’s always been insecure. Her mother has always been controlling and manipulative. Hell, this isn’t even the first time Betty has tried starvation and purging to lose weight. There are countless prescription bottles in her medicine cabinet as proof: she’s always been fucked up. _Crazy runs in the family._ At least she could say she came by it honestly. Really, she never stood a chance.

 

***

 

After what feels like the longest day in the history of Riverdale High, Veronica finally shoves her gym bag into her locker, punctuating it with a loud slam of the door. Vixen practice is over and she is free to go check on Betty. _Finally._ Betty’s response to Veronica’s earlier text left something to be desired, and Veronica would be damned if she let Betty off the hook that easily.

Veronica is filled with nerves as she approaches the Cooper household. If Alice answers the door, Veronica isn’t sure she has enough willpower to put up a pleasant front. She knocks on the door with a shaking fist. After a few moments, sure enough, Alice Cooper appears in the door frame. Her face is hard and cold. “Veronica, what a surprise,” she starts, her tone almost Antarctic. “We weren’t expecting you.”

She swallows. “I just– Betty wasn’t at school today. I wanted to make sure she was okay,” Veronica stammers.

Alice smirks and looks Veronica up and down. “She’s fine. Per her doctor’s orders, she’s on  bedrest for the next three days.”

“Can I see her? I brought her the homework–” Veronica starts, reaching in her bag for Betty’s books, but Alice cuts her off.

“Sorry, honey. No visitors.”

Before Veronica has the chance to say anything more, Alice is closing the door in her face. Veronica stares at it, dumbfounded. This was going to be harder than she thought. Luckily, Jughead had texted her mentioning this may happen. Veronica knew there was a ladder conveniently placed right next to Betty’s bedroom window.

Veronica makes sure nobody is watching before she creeps around to the side of the house. She struggles a bit with moving the ladder into place, but once she manages, she doesn’t hesitate to climb up to Betty’s window. There’s a split second where Veronica wonders idly if this is exactly the sort of thing Betty _didn’t_ want, but Veronica’s too concerned to care. She’ll deal with the fallout later.

Betty is startled by the knock on her window. She anxiously glances at her bedroom door before walking towards the noise. When she sees Veronica, she opens the window and hisses, “Veronica! What the _hell_ are you doing?”

Veronica’s heart sinks. Maybe this was too much. “I’m worried about you, B.” She pauses and looks around Betty’s room. “Can I come in?”

Betty rolls her eyes and steps back to let Veronica climb through the window, holding her arm out to gesture inside. “If you must,” she acquiesces.

After Veronica clambers into the room, she shifts back and forth on her feet uncomfortably. She hadn’t expected this reaction from her best friend. She looks up at Betty with pain in her eyes and asks, “How are you feeling?” Veronica hopes it’s a neutral enough question that Betty doesn’t have another meltdown. She genuinely just wants her to be okay.

Betty huffs in frustration. “How am I feeling, Veronica?” she shrieks. “How am I feeling?” she repeats, quieter this time– she doesn’t want to alert her parents to the unexpected visitor– but just as firm. “Oh, I don’t know, V, how about exhausted? How about frustrated? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Betty is exasperated. She should’ve _known_ Veronica couldn’t just leave well enough alone. _Of course_ Veronica would show up and find a way around her mother. Betty makes a mental note to move the ladder away from her window.

“Betty,” Veronica starts, “Don’t do this. Please.” Veronica reaches out a hand towards Betty, but she shrinks away at the contact. Veronica’s eyes soften. “I know you’re hiding something, B. Let me help you.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Betty lies. Can Veronica not see how important it is that she leave her alone? Betty doesn’t even want to _think_ about what her mother would do if she found out Betty had been talking to her friends. Texting was risky enough, but this? She thinks Alice might go full nuclear on her if she found out.

Veronica cocks her head to the side and takes a step closer. “Betty,” she repeats– this time with more conviction. “This isn’t you, B. What’s going on?” She looks down for a beat before looking back into Betty’s eyes, her own filled with a renewed sense of brevity. “It’s Alice, isn’t it? She said something to you, didn’t she?”

Betty’s entire body stiffens at the mention of her mother. Veronica can’t know what her mother said to her. She _can’t_. She lets out a subtle breath as she closes her eyes to gather her thoughts. When she opens them again, Veronica is staring at her with laser focus.

“Oh my God, _she did!_ ” Veronica’s eyes widen and she begins to pace around Betty’s bedroom. “I can’t believe this. I _knew_ she’d say something to hurt you. What did she say, B? I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her–” Veronica stops when Betty’s hand reaches out and grabs her arm.

“V, please,” Betty begs. “Please just leave it alone.” She pauses and averts her gaze away from Veronica. “All of this… it’s–” she glances up at Veronica, searching for the right word– “it’s suffocating, V.” Her voice is small when she says it, as if she doesn’t want to admit it out loud. Betty knows Veronica will assume she’s talking about her visit, but in reality, it’s so much more. Betty feels suffocated by everything– by her mom, her thoughts, her friends, the pressure to be perfect. Everything just feels like it’s too much and she can’t take a deep breath. She desperately wants to be able to _breathe_ again.

Veronica’s features soften at the sight of her obviously broken friend. She lets out a soft laugh before taking Betty’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes I wish we could all just get the hell out of here. All of our parents are crazy.” She pauses and laughs again. “Suffocating might be more apropos. And we all know Jughead's lifelong dream is to become a hermit in the woods.”

Betty allows herself a small laugh at Veronica’s words. She misses the days when they could joke around and be _normal._ It’s crazy to think so much has happened in such little time. Betty’s nostalgic for a time that’s barely gone. “Yeah,” she says. The word hangs in the air as if she wants to add more, but she doesn’t elaborate.

After a long pause, Veronica speaks. “Well, I’ll leave you alone, now. But, B, please _please_ don’t shut me out. I’m here for you. In whatever way you need, okay?”

Betty squeezes Veronica’s hand before letting it go. “I know, V. Really. I just need some space right now. I love you.”

Tears threaten to spill from Veronica’s eyes. “Oh, B. I love you too. Now get your blonde bombshell ass better so we can stop this nonsense, got it?” Veronica gives her one last pointed look before she starts her descent down the ladder and back to reality.

 

***

 

Betty’s sitting at her dining room table. Her parents are at some function for the Register tonight– like every night lately– and she’s engrossed in the silence around her. Her thoughts are deafening. She feels numb and jittery, like the anxiety running through her system is a ton of tiny fire ants crawling through her veins. She doesn’t know where it comes from, it just _does,_ and Betty is helpless to stop it. Briefly, she considers taking something, but she shoots the idea down. The last thing Betty wants is to become dependent on the drugs. As if she needs _another_ issue.

Instead, she settles on bouncing her leg. And then her other leg. She follows with her entire body until it’s as if she’s vibrating at an inhuman frequency. Her eyes sting as the ants make their way to her spine and they don’t stop until they’re everywhere. Betty has to move. She has to do something. She can’t just sit there and let this feeling take over. She walks to the fridge, opens it, and slams it shut. _No,_ she thinks. Betty exits the kitchen, her actions growing more manic with each passing second. She’s bombarded with thoughts and completely thoughtless all at once. It’s maddening and frightening and so uncomfortable that Betty thinks she might do anything to make it stop. She just wants it to go away.

Slowly and deliberately, Betty closes her eyes as she curls her fingers inward. She lets out a long breath through her nose. She hasn’t trimmed her nails in a few weeks, so she immediately feels the sharp sting of their force biting at the tender skin of her palms. It fights back, not breaking yet, and it only fuels Betty to push harder. She needs to see the indents. She wants to push until all of the panic she feels can be seen on her skin.

Betty is pacing now. She doesn’t know when she started but now she can’t stop. Her breathing becomes erratic and shallow and she wonders if this will be one of those episodes where her throat closes up. The fear only eggs her on and soon she can feel hot, sticky tears all over her face. She swats at them angrily with the back of her hand as she blindly makes her way to the front door.

In a haze of fury, she’s pulling the door open and leaving the house. The fresh air against her skin provides her with a brief relief as she starts walking. Betty doesn’t know where she’s going, only that she has to go _somewhere._ Anywhere.

She passes Archie’s house, and the house after that, and the house after that. Soon all of the perfectly trimmed hedges and picket fences blur together and Betty isn’t sure how far she’s gone. She stumbles across an expansive forest– a sign that maybe she’d run farther than she originally thought– and Betty nearly sprints into the shelter of the trees. She reaches the middle of the forest and collapses to the ground.

Betty looks around. It’s dusk. The only sound, for miles she suspects, is the swaying of the leaves on the trees. Ignoring her pestering thoughts of the people situated behind the doors of the houses she ran past in a fury, she inhales deeply.

And then it happens.

Betty lets out a scream, as loud as her lungs will allow, until there’s nothing left inside of her. She can hear it echo into the wind when she finishes. Her throat is instantly hoarse from the effort, but she doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters to her anymore. Not her throat, not the inevitable eyes peering from behind the curtains of the homes of anyone near enough to hear her, not even the fact that her entire body is screaming at her for more reasons than she can count.

Her fists slam their way into the hard, undeveloped earth, and Betty screams again. And again. She screams until her entire body shakes with the effort. She’s sure _someone_ , _somewhere_ heard her, but nobody can find her buried deep within the trees.

 _I’m safe here. Nobody can find me._ She curls up and rests her head on a patch of grass.

_Maybe if I stay long enough, I won’t be able to find myself, either._

 

***

 

There’s a searing pain in Betty’s side as she opens her eyes. She blinks a few times, adjusting to the light,  and then it hits her. She’s in the middle of what she now suspects to be Fox Forest. She’s pretty sure she’s still near her neighborhood, but Betty isn’t exactly sure how far she’d ran the night before. If the ache in her legs is anything to go by, she ran far. Maybe she wasn’t as close to   her neighborhood as she thought. _How far away is Fox Forest, anyway?_

Betty forces herself to sit up while she contemplates what to do next. She knows she should go home, but the idea of facing Alice Cooper after walking through the door, clothes stained with dirt, tear stains streaking her cheeks, and dried blood on her palms– well, Betty thinks staying lost in the wilderness might be the safer option.

Betty swallows as she tries to relieve the pain that she begins to feel in her throat. Snippets of memory from the night before flash before her: _the running–falling to the ground–the screaming, God, all the screaming._

With shaky legs beneath her, Betty stands herself up and starts walking in the direction she thinks her house is. Suddenly, Veronica’s words from the day before come crashing back to the front of her mind. “ _Sometimes I wish we could all get the hell out of here._ ” Her mother can’t torture her if she doesn’t walk through the front door. Veronica used the ladder by her window just yesterday, and Betty was willing to bet her father hadn’t gotten around to moving it back into the garage yet. Betty can just climb up into her room, pack up a bag, and leave the same way she came– undetected. As soon as the thought popped into her tired brain, Betty knew. She decides at that very moment. Betty isn’t going home– not to stay. She's going home in preparation to disappear– going home to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is coming a little later than I wanted, but it's here! And only a few days late this time ;) 
> 
> As always, a HUGE shoutout to my saint of a beta, Katie (@bugggghead) for being so amazing and making me a better writer. Also shoutout to my homegirl Tori (@tory-b) for being wonderful and helping me with ideas. I wouldn't be half the writer I am without you guys!
> 
> Once again, comments are always always always appreciated! Follow me on tumblr (@betty-cooper) for sneak peeks and general nonsense!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time coming, so if you're still with me, thank you for sticking with me! This chapter was truly a labor of love and while this time around, it's not beta'd, it's still one of the best things I've ever written and I'm extremely proud of it. I hope it was worth the wait!

Betty’s legs scream in protest beneath her as she makes the journey back to her house. With each step she feels as if she’s picking up lead blocks and dragging them back to a home that wasn’t welcoming at all. The distance feels miles longer than it had the previous night, but Betty knows she needs to gather her things– tie up her life with a neat little bow– and disappear. 

When Betty finally makes it back to her house– by divine intervention, she’s sure– she stills. It doesn’t look like the house of horrors she knows it to be; the white paneling, picket fence, and red door put on an inviting facade. One she almost believes. The familiarity of the outside calls to Betty and she wants more than anything to walk back in like nothing happened.

Except, it had.  _ Everything _ had happened, and all she can manage is creeping quietly around the side of the house to the ladder left forgotten by her bedroom window.

As she stumbles through her window, Betty can already feel the shift taking place. This isn’t her room– not anymore. She surveys the pink walls and plush toys scattered on her floral bed. No, this is just four walls encasing a ghost of someone she used to know. Like a distant memory longing to be forgotten, it was time to let go.

Slowly, Betty walks around the room. She collects the things she needs– like clothes, toiletries, her phone, wallet– and stops. She walks to the bed and pulls her journal from its spot under her mattress.  _ This can come, too, _ she thinks. As she places the notebook atop the neat pile of her belongings, she takes one last, sweeping look around her room. Mentally, she checks the boxes in her mind. Betty gingerly slides the tidy pile into her backpack. Everything she needs–  _ her whole life _ – now resides within the fabric confines of her bag.  _ The less space I take up, the better. _

 

***

 

Betty’s navigating her way through the back roads of Riverdale when it happens: the telltale vibration of her phone. Already, the outside world is trying to reach her. She knows she could’ve left her phone behind, but Betty couldn’t completely turn her back on everything–  _ everyone _ .

Pulling the device out of her pocket, she stares at the illuminated screen. Jughead’s name appears, bright and bold, burning into her eyes from the small screen.  _ Of course _ the one person she wasn’t sure she could say goodbye to would be the first to contact her. She slides her thumb across the screen, and reads:

 

> **Betty, baby, I’m worried about you. Please remember I love you. God, I fucking love you, Betts. Please let me in.**

 

Betty can practically hear the desperation in his voice as she rereads the text. It’s only been two days, but this is the longest they’d ever gone without speaking. Sure, she’d responded to him yesterday, but they didn’t talk.  _ Not really.  _ Her finger hovers over his name. It stares back at her, bright and angry, the backlit pixels taunting her from beneath her shaky fingertips. It’s as if she’s frozen in time, hanging in the balance between action and inaction. With one swipe of her finger, she could hear Jughead’s voice– something Betty desperately wants.  _ You can’t. Nobody can know where you are, what you’re doing. Not even Jughead. _

Blinking back tears, she taps the picture besides Jughead’s name. She stares at the picture, memorizing the distinct blue of his eyes, the lilting smirk played across his features, the way his one rogue curl hangs just right in front of his eyes. All at once, Betty is hit with the realization that if she wants to be free from Alice Cooper’s wrath, she’ll also have to cut herself off from Jughead. No matter how badly she wants to hear the familiar drawl of his voice, she can’t let herself give in. Not if she wants a fighting chance at freedom.

Betty’s heart clenches as the image of Jughead appears unsolicited in her mind; he’s staring at his phone, pulling at the screen again and again to refresh his messages. He sees the three dots appear and a glimmer of hope flashes across his eyes before being replaced with more sadness than Betty thought possible. She swallows and fights the growing urge to call him as she carefully exits the conversation– making sure she doesn’t so much as brush the keyboard.  _ I can’t do that to him. I won’t. _ Betty chokes back the sobs threatening to break free while she frantically taps his name one more time.  _ Maybe I made it up. Maybe he isn’t even worried. _ Her heart sinks when his words reappear before her eyes. They’re shining up at her in black and white– teasing her, tempting her, mocking her.

Before she does something she knows she’ll regret, Betty throws her phone behind a nearby bush and angrily swipes at the tears making their escape down her cheeks. Through her blurred, teary vision, Betty can make out a bench just a few feet away. She takes a few quick glances around before deciding her location is secluded enough for her to sit and take a break.  _ Maybe if I close my eyes, just for a little bit, I’ll feel better. Just a few minutes and I’ll be able to figure this all out… _

 

***

 

Betty shoots up and inhales sharply. Her heart is racing and palms are sweating. She can feel a sharp pain in her neck as she looks around. The bench. She must’ve dozed off for a few minutes on the bench. She squints against the harsh sunlight filtering through her fingers as her eyes adjust. An uneasy feeling trickles down her spine and settles in her bones when the realization hits: it’s  _ too _ bright. She blinks a few more times, trying desperately to remember when she sat down. It wasn’t this early, was it? As she tries to grasp how much time has passed, flashes of memory invade her mind.

_ Betty is crawling around, hands fumbling to find her phone in the darkness. Where had she thrown it? It was behind this bush, wasn’t it? She can feel the harshness of gravel and mulch underneath her begin to pierce through her skin as she finally wraps her hand around the pocket-sized device. _

_ It’s raining now. All she can see is the weak rays of light shining from her phone, illuminating the path before her as Betty searches for Sweetwater River. She’s so thirsty. If she could just make it to the River… _

_ Betty grasps her knee as shooting pain rips through her. She’s sitting under the harsh sun as blood seeps through her jeans from the spot the unforgiving cement had torn through her flesh. Her sweat mingles with the fresh tears falling freely from her eyes. _

_ She’s tucking herself away in a treehouse long abandoned by the children that once delighted in its shelter. She can sleep here. She’ll be safe here. _

_ Betty wanders aimlessly, numb to the world as she drags her feet and clutches the straps of her backpack. She begins to wonder what she’s even living for. The sun shines down on her, an unforgiving spotlight singling her out in a crowd of faceless people. _

_ Her tired muscles are screaming as Betty tries to outrun her pain. She can see the bench in the distance, illuminated by a lone street light in the back alleys of town. Back to where it all began. Just a rest. A brief relief from the endless cycle of running she’s found herself in. _

Betty straightens herself up and looks around once more. It can’t be, can it?

 

***

 

Jughead paces frantically, the movement in his limbs the only thing grounding him to the here and now. He feels like his entire body is vibrating with panic, moving at a frequency almost invisible to the human eye, shaking and convulsing until he inevitably explodes. He hasn’t heard from Betty in three days.  _ Three days. _ No phone calls, no texts, not even the three precious dots in their conversation to alert him of her presence. He pulls out his phone and throws it across the room when he’s met with a blank screen. Again.

He picks it up and stares once again. The screen had fractured at the impact, leaving a series of small paper thin cracks blossoming across the glossy black of the screen. Jughead runs his fingers over the uneven surface. The irony is not lost on him that there is beauty in the damage– in the spiderweb of destruction that had befallen his phone. The same beauty he’s sure he'd find if he were to run his fingertips along the surface of his aching heart. Identical rough ridges, fractures and scars constricting its beating. Every pump of blood bringing him closer to his destruction.

With the panic coursing through him at an increasingly alarming rate, Jughead makes his decision. He can’t stand back and wonder any longer. His worry is consuming him, eating him from the inside out. He just has to  _ know _ .

With a shaky breath and a newfound sense of purpose, Jughead knows he needs to find her– to make sure she’s okay. Hell, to make sure she’s  _ alive. _ If she won’t let him in, he’ll climb into her bedroom through that damn window and force himself in.

 

***

 

He’s standing at the bottom of the ladder. Jughead swears it’s as if he can see it growing taller before his eyes, taller than the house, taller than the old trees rooted in the ground for generations . As he drags his eyes upward, the world turns on its axis. With every inch and rung stretching impossibly higher, it seems to shoot clear into the sky and Jughead has to brace his hands on the side of the house to steady himself. Jughead’s throat goes dry. The idea of going up into Betty’s room suddenly feels daunting– like he’s about to walk into something gone horribly awry. His palms are so sweaty Jughead wonders if he’ll even be able to make the climb at all. 

Jughead wipes his palms on his pants before grabbing on to the first rung. And then another. With each step up the seemingly endless ladder to Betty’s room, his heart rate quickens. Finally, he reaches the window. As Jughead slowly raises the glass, a knot forms in the pit of his stomach. He looks around. There’s no sign of Betty.

Once he’s properly in her room, he surveys his surroundings. The bed is made, and everything is perfectly placed– it’s  _ too perfect _ . There’s an eerie stillness permeating through the air; it feels like nobody has set foot in the room for days. Jughead takes a step further into the room and catches a glimpse of the closet in his peripherals. It’s practically empty.  _ It’s practically empty. _

Jughead’s stomach drops. All of a sudden, the walls are closing in on him and he’s gasping for air. Everything around him is suffocating– the stuffed animals, once cute and charming, now stare daggers back at him. The pink and perfection and everything that represents  _ Betty _ is stifling– menacing even– and he needs to get out. He’s cornered in by her mere presence and he’s overwhelmed by the fact that she  _ isn’t here. _

To Jughead’s horror, he feels rooted to the spot. All he can do is stare in agony at the hauntingly empty room before him. Dread crawls through his veins and settles in a pool in his stomach. The realization hits and everything goes numb. He hasn’t heard from her in three days.  _ She isn’t here. _ Alice won’t let anyone in to see her because  _ she’s been gone for three days. Without a trace. Missing. _

Panic overtakes every nerve ending in his body and he can feel it pulsing through him. He has to find her. Betty is out there somewhere, alone and vulnerable.  _ He has to find her. _

 

***

 

If what she’s remembering is right, Betty’s been gone for three days already.  _ There’s no way,  _ she thinks.  _ How could I just black out for three whole days?  _ Panic rises within her as she tries to wrap her head around the memories swimming around in her mind. Betty looks down and sees the blood dried on her knee from where she fell; she turns her palms over to reveal dirt caked deep within her palms.  _ Fuck, they’re real. It all happened. _

Suddenly, Betty feels uncomfortable in her skin and she wants nothing more than to find somewhere to shower. She needs to wash the grime of the forgotten days clean from her flesh and begin anew. Her skin crawls at the thought of being so detached she’s lost  _ days  _ of her life to the bottomless void of her mind. She gropes around for her phone before finding it in her back pocket. It’s dead. Without the tiny technological wonder, Betty truly is isolated.

She throws the now useless device into her backpack before shrugging it onto her shoulders. Her mind is still spinning from the realization that she’s been wandering aimlessly for three days and she  _ didn’t even know. _ Everything around her blurs together as she walks and it’s becoming increasingly hard to focus on where she’s going.  _ One foot after the other, Betty. Left foot. Right foot. Left. Right. _

Betty’s entire body screams in protest as she fights her way through the thick haze of fog in her mind.  _ Find a shower. Fresh start. _ She looks around and idly registers that she’s close to the Community Center. Betty thinks she remembers going there with her dad once and waiting while he showered after they swam together.  _ Finally, an aim. _

With a singular focus in her mind, Betty can push past the swirls of color and fuzzy faces around her.  _ The Community Center. Just get to the Community Center. _ She squints at the signs around her, desperately trying to center her mind on the destination. Slowly, everything slides into place. The signs get a little clearer– just clear enough for Betty to figure out where she needs to go.

With the fog in her head slightly lessened, she forces herself forward.

 

***

 

Jughead is pushing his way through the crowd of students. Being familiar with the amenities the school provided himself, he figures Riverdale High is as good a starting place as any in his search for Betty. Insignificant bodies mesh together and bump and collide around him, but he is laser focused.  _ Check the janitor’s closet. Check the Blue and Gold. Check all the showers. _ Jughead would be damned if gaggles of teenagers in the throes of hormonal growth spurts would stop him from finding his girl.

With every turn of his head or dart of his eyes, Jughead swears he can see it. A flash of blonde so radiant it could put the heavens to shame. He could see it glowing golden under the fluorescents of the hallway, swinging energetically in the gym to the rhythm of the Vixens, the telltale ponytail disappearing around a corner– just out of his reach. He could even see her piercing green eyes taunt him amongst the crowds; the precise shade of emerald burned into the back of his mind until it was all he could see. Even when he blinked, it was there, etched into his subconscious, as if he’d stared at the sun just a hair too long.

And that’s how he feels– like a moth drawn to a flame. Icarus flying too close to the sun. Without her light to guide him, he’s aimless. Lost in a sea unfamiliar faces and unforgiving eyes. It’s not that he  _ wants  _ to find Betty, although god he does. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. No, it’s that he  _ needs _ to find her. Without her, he may as well be just another lifeless soul floating around in purgatory– waiting, hoping, dreaming of the day he can finally be set free.

Jughead snaps himself back to reality and the task at hand.  _ Get it together, Jones. Visions of Betty will only land you a one way ticket to the looney bin. _ He strides purposefully to his all-too-familiar hideaways and nearly yells out in frustration when Betty is nowhere to be found.  _ Another dead end. _

 

***

 

Betty stumbles through the doors of the Community Center, her mind still a cloudy haze. She can recall the moment she decided to shower– to get to the center– but getting from point A to point B was nothing but dead air. It was like someone had taken the VHS recording of her life and taped over it with static and Betty has to squint into the black and white of the pixels for even a shred of what once played back in clear and vivid color. She sighed in frustration.  _ Who am I kidding? The last three days have been nothing but static. _ With heavy limbs and an even heavier heart, she propelled herself forward into the cold, sterile haven of the showers.

As she steps out of the stark white cubicle, now clean, a chill overtakes Betty’s damp skin. She looks down. Underneath the goosebumps, she can make out bruises and scrapes– none of which she could recall getting. The black and blue of her body only add to the mounting fog of confusion taking residence in her tired mind. Betty wraps her arms around her frail body in an attempt to warm herself up. A pang of longing hits like a shock to her system in that instant. She’s tired and cold and all she wants is to collapse into Jughead’s warm embrace. Her heart clenches at the thought.  _ Jughead _ . He had been begging– practically screaming at her to let him in, and all she could do was run and hide.  _ How did I get here? _

Willing herself to keep going, Betty grabs her backpack and heads to the locker room to put on some fresh clothes. If she was being honest, she wasn’t sure when the last time she changed even  _ was. _

Pulling on clean clothes, however wrinkled they were from their spot at the bottom of her bag, brought a momentary veil of warmth to Betty’s otherwise frigid flesh. The warmth was fleeting, however, and the subsequent chill that returned was even icier than before. Betty shivered; she longed to feel Jughead’s warm skin against hers, to feel his breath against her neck. She ached to be back in his arms, cuddled up and listening to his sweet nothings whispered into her ear.

Betty feels the air evaporate from her lungs. How could she have been so stubborn to think she could do this without him? Another heavy sigh escapes her lips.  _ Because of Alice fucking Cooper, that’s why. _ Loving Jughead doesn’t make her mother’s wrath any less of a threat. It only makes it that much more crippling.  _ You have everything to lose. _ Betty curls her fingers into her palms– an attempt at grasping on to the life she feels slipping away from her. Shivers wrack her body once more, and she summons up all of the strength she has left to leave the confines of the locker rooms.  _ Where to next? _

 

***

 

As he pushes his deepening panic aside, Jughead straddles his motorcycle. He feels an acute sense of longing as he clicks the clasp of his helmet–  _ Betty’s helmet, really– _ shut underneath his chin. What once kept Betty safe as she wrapped her arms tightly around his body feels heavy against his skull. It’s just one more reminder that he’s failed; Jughead let the most important person in his life just disappear without a trace, any remnant of her existence now mocking him with every second that passes. It’s like he’s just a shell of a person without her there to fill him up, to give him meaning. Before Betty, he was a lost, wandering soul, but after? It’s as if he held the key to the universe in his hands, only to watch it slip through his fingertips and disappear into the abyss. He swallows, forcing his thoughts back to the present. Jughead couldn’t even entertain the thought that this may constitute a situation that could even remotely resemble an ‘After Betty’ scenario. He just won’t accept it.  _ You’re going to find Betty. _

Kicking his kickstand up, he revs his engine to life. The roar of the motor almost drowns out his worry as he propels himself forward. Trying to bring himself back to his state of mind when he was homeless, Jughead remembers finding solace in the Community Center.  _ Worth a shot, _ he thinks. He clings tight to the hope that she’ll be there; he clings to it like he wishes Betty could cling to him.

When he arrives, his eyes dart around, each line of vision zeroing in on anything that could tip him off to Betty’s whereabouts.

And then it happens.

He sees it again, a splash of blonde, a floral backpack, the steady cadence of her stride. Jughead’s heart stops and for a second he wonders if he’s gone into cardiac arrest. His entire body feels frozen in time as he stares after it. He blinks to make sure he isn’t hallucinating, and it’s gone as fast as it had come. One blink– that’s all it took. Just another fragment of his imagination playing cruel tricks on him. Regaining his mobility, Jughead pushes through the door– pushes right past the ghost of Betty he could’ve sworn was clear as day before him, and steps inside.

 

***

 

Betty wraps herself in the flimsy fabric of a blanket left forgotten in the projection booth at the now abandoned drive-in. The threadbare and thinning material sits atop her skin, but Betty shivers as if the cold is coming from deep within her body. She sighs. Not even the one place Betty thought would bring her closer to Jughead in her isolation can provide even an ounce of the warmth she feels just from his smile alone. 

She lays on her side, the metal springs of the cot poking through and digging into her fragile frame. It’s fitting, really. The physicality of the pangs of pain from the metal wires mirror the pangs she feels on an endless loop in her heart. Betty shivers once more. She can no longer deny that freedom can’t be worth it if it also means freedom from  _ Jughead _ . Pulling the thin blanket impossibly tighter around her body, she tries to imagine it’s Jughead’s strong arms– the arms that always found a way to make her feel safe and warm.

Instead, Betty feels a breeze pass through a moth-eaten hole in the fabric. She thinks she can feel tears streaming down her face and into the worn pillow, but Betty’s mind can’t focus on anything other than the bone chilling cold pulsing through her body. It’s almost as if she’s beginning to forget what warmth even feels like. Without Jughead, there is only cold.

Betty’s eyelids droop as she succumbs to the weight of the world she’s left behind. For a fleeting moment, she allows herself to hope that in her dreams, she can travel back to the warmth. Back to the only place she truly  _ feels _ warm. Back to Jughead.

 

***

 

Jughead feels frantic. He sees Betty  _ everywhere _ and yet, she’s nowhere to be found. It’s like he’s trapped in a funhouse full of mirrors, and he keeps catching reflections of Betty– ghosts and glimpses, a distorted view of his once shining golden girl. Around every corner, she disappears; every turn leads to another mirror. The slight of his imagination.  _ Am I going mad? _

Feeling almost entirely defeated, Jughead decides to head to the drive-in in a last ditch effort to bring Betty home. It’s the only place he can think of that he hasn’t tried, and Jughead would be damned if he didn’t do everything in his power to find Betty.

His feet feel like lead as he drags them, one after the other, towards the familiar empty skeleton of the once vibrant beacon that was the Twilight Drive-In. Almost as if he’s on autopilot, Jughead’s body gravitates towards the projection booth. The door handle sticks.

He shakes it.

He shakes it again.

Frustration surges through his body.  _ Why am I constantly fighting an uphill battle? _

 

***

 

Betty awakes in a cold sweat, the droplets on her skin causing goosebumps to jump through her flesh. Her hair stands on end as panic races through her veins when she registers the handle of the door furiously shaking.  _ Someone is coming. _

As quickly and quietly as possible, Betty grabs her bag and tiptoes to the window opposite the door. She doesn’t know who’s on the other end, and she’s certain she doesn’t want to find out. Endless scenarios flash across her mind. She settles on the worst of them all:  _ Has she found me? _

Betty doesn’t stay to learn the answer. She slips through the window and into the darkness.

The moonlight illuminates her ponytail as it disappears into the night.

 

***

 

Jughead manages to push the door open and stumbles into the projection room. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he can see it: that familiar sliver of blonde– just a flash in the darkness before it disappears. He runs to the window, his arm reaching, always reaching, towards where the light hit just right to play another cruel trick on his mind. His arm hangs in midair, suspended, as if if he could reach  _ just _ a little farther, he could feel her.  _ She’s just out of his grasp. _

Jughead’s eyes are trained to the spot where he saw it–  _ imagined it? _ – his eyes frantically trying to adjust to the blackness of the night sky. There are no stars.  _ No hope _ , he thinks. Betty’s taken the stars with her. Not even the momentary glimpse of one shooting across the sky is left for him to wish on. Betty’s stolen those too. All of his wishes. His goals, his dreams, everything disappeared the moment she did.

Slowly, he lowers his hand.  _ There’s no use. She’s gone. _ With one last lingering look off into the distance, Jughead turns. He surveys the room. His eyes land on the old cot where he used to sleep. He carries his heavy body to the worn down excuse for a mattress. He swear the blanket still feels warm– like somebody was just here.  _ Don’t get your hopes up Jughead. You’re imagining things. _ As he wraps the thin fabric around himself, it hits him. Roses. Vanilla. The one scent he can never place but just  _ knows _ it’s Betty. He pulls the blanket impossibly tighter around him as sleep finally finds him.  _ Betty… _

 

***

 

She’s running as fast as her feet can carry her, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Betty doesn’t look back, not even for a moment. She doesn’t even consider the possibility that being found might be a good thing. Not when Alice Cooper is around. Not when she has everything to lose. Or has she already lost it?

Her legs burn as she propels herself further into Fox Forest. If she can find a place with dense enough trees, she can rest. She wants to disappear into the foliage the way moss blends in with the terrain. She just wants to  _ be.  _ To exist. She doesn’t want to worry about her life, doesn’t want to worry about the flurry of anxieties that rattle around in her brain every second of every day. She doesn’t want to be perfect, anymore; she just wants to live. Simply. Authentically. Honestly.

After what feels like miles, but what Betty is sure wasn’t nearly that far, she rests. She throws her backpack down onto the ground and leans against a nearby tree stump.  _ This is life, now. Abandoned buildings. Empty forests. Running. Always running. _

 

***

 

_ Her hair is illuminated against the black of the night. It whips around a corner. Jughead can hear Betty’s laugh in the distance. He’s running but his feet don’t move an inch. Betty’s laugh turns into a scream and he reaches out, the space growing impossibly bigger between them. Finally, he sees it. Trees. Leaves. Grass. They’re in the forest. There’s blood on the ground. It can’t be– Betty? He calls out but nobody is around to hear. Blonde flashes before him. Beside him. It’s constantly moving. Never more than a glimpse. A scream pierces through the silence once more. _

Jughead gasps for air as he wakes. He’s covered in sweat despite the freezing night air inside the projection booth. Adrenaline is pumping through him.

Frantically, he gets up.  _ Why didn’t I go to the forest? _ Jughead almost forces the door off its hinges as he makes a beeline straight into the collection of trees just behind the drive-in. He knows it was only a dream, but it felt so  _ real. _

Without any real aim or direction, Jughead walks– almost at a run– through the never ending forest. Everywhere he turns, he can see the all too familiar blonde that now haunts his dreams. Just a glimpse, and he turns abruptly, changing direction. He could be walking in circles for all he knows, but Jughead would be damned if he gave up on Betty that easily.

In his frenzied state, Jughead passes a disheveled blonde curled up on the ground. He glances at the figure, cursing his mind for playing more tricks on him, when he freezes. He hadn’t hallucinated a  _ body _ before, had he?

 

***

 

Betty freezes. She had awoken to the sound of twigs crunching and heavy breathing. She didn’t dare move, but out of the corner of her eye, she could make out a figure in the distance. They moved frantically, clearly searching for something. She holds her breath and prays to God that something isn’t her.

When the person passes her, Betty gets up as quietly as she can manage, readying herself to run.

Something stops her, though. Her feet won’t move and she racks her brain trying to figure out what’s holding her back.

_ The beanie. _

 

***

 

He turns around and he can practically feel the color draining from his face. He sees breath in the air, visible in the cold, and he knows. Jughead swallows. Hard. He blinks a few times just to be sure he isn’t hallucinating. Standing in front of him is Betty.  _ His Betty _ . Her eyes are bloodshot and her clothes are covered in dirt, but she’s here.  _ She’s alive. _ Jughead doesn’t know if he wants to cry or faint. Maybe both. “Betty?” he stammers.

 

She nods. “It’s me, Jug.”


End file.
